


Moments in Time

by Draconicmaw



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: A dab of angst for flavor, Drabbles, Established Relationship, First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, Jealousy, Lipstick & Lip Gloss, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, TsundereExtraordinaire!Seto Kaiba, YGOPridecember 2020, Yami Yuugi | Atem Has His Own Body, Yu-Gi-Oh! Pridecember 2020, boys being dumb, no beta we die like men, obligatory duel, obligatory instances of Atem discovering things for the first time, ygopridecember
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:06:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 38,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27862766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draconicmaw/pseuds/Draconicmaw
Summary: Some things you don't notice happening until you take the time to look back, and it's all right there in front of you. Hindsight is 20/20, they say. Maybe they're right.I've decided that I would do a series of small connected drabbles for Pridecember 2020. These are anachronous, but all fall into the same storyline. Some are after their relationship is established, and some are before. Also, this is an "Atem-stays-and-has-his-own-body" canon divergence AU. Ratings will be determined per chapter.Prompt 30 -- RingAtem is acting weird during date night. What is he hiding?
Relationships: Atem/Kaiba Seto, Kaiba Seto/Yami Yuugi, Kaiba Seto/Yami Yuugi | Atem
Comments: 44
Kudos: 115





	1. 2 AM

**Author's Note:**

> Again, these are anachronic, but in the end notes I have them listed in chronological order. I update it with each chapter I post. When all the prompts are completed, I will go through each chapter and put the link for its sequel in the end notes of that chapter.
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I've generally been struggling to write much of anything lately, but I think doing small snippets for the prompts for Pridecember 2020 will be helpful. I hope you guys enjoy them!
> 
> Prompt 1: Coffee, rated T, established relationship. Vaguely references events from Season 0.

The mattress shifted with the quietest of creaks and the rustling of sheets. It was so quiet, in fact, that it was not what had awoken Seto that night. But still he woke, cheek plastered to his body-warmed pillow, and he blinked blearily at the other side of the bed. The sheets and blanket were disheveled just so, but there was no body beneath them.

A sleepy half-frown.

Atem was gone.

Seto stretched a hand forward. The imprint of Atem’s body heat still lingered. He must have just recently slipped out of bed.

Seto sighed, let his eyes slide closed. Atem probably had to use the bathroom, or maybe went to get a drink of water. He’d be back soon.

But time passed. Atem did not return to bed. An indignant huff gusted through Seto’s nostrils.

_Come back already, dammit, so I can go back to sleep._

The soundless supplication went unheard and unanswered, and with the continued solitude in their bed, a restlessness gnawed at Seto’s bones.

“Where the hell is he?” came the growl, raspy with sleep and drowsy irritation. He threw back the sheet and blanket with much less care than his partner had.

He stalked to the door, ajar, to the hall. There was still no sign of Atem.

The halls were still and quiet aside from their master roaming them with his cantankerous grumblings and long strides. A scent caught his attention – warm and familiar, though a little different than he was used to. It was freshly brewed coffee, with its toasty, steamy aroma. But he could tell it wasn’t the home-ground, specialty-roasted beans that were his preference. He wrinkled his nose. It was the instant coffee Atem had an inexplicable fondness for.

He made it to the kitchen, which was dimly lit only by the overhead light on the stove. There, on the counter, was the coffee machine with its fresh pot of coffee, but there was no Atem. Still, Seto marched over to the products neatly lined up on the counter. Powdered hazelnut creamer (blech), the canister of sugar, and the dark can of instant coffee. He lifted it up to check the label.

Thank god. It was decaf. He definitely didn’t want to deal with a highly caffeinated Atem at two in the goddamn morning. Atem’s body still wasn’t acclimated to caffeine intake (even after all these years), and any amount just larger than miniscule gave him the shakes and a sort of frenetic energy that never ceased to instill anxiety in Seto’s nerves.

The can gave that hollow, metallic thud when he set it back on the counter.

Where the hell was Atem?

Seto frowned, then stalked over to the sliding glass door to the patio.

Sure enough, out there, under the light of the moon, Atem sat in one of the lawn chairs. Cradled in both of his hands was a steaming mug of coffee, and he robotically took small, dainty sips as he seemed to stare sightlessly into the enormous backyard.

Seto slid the door open and stepped out. Immediately, he shivered. It was chilly out. At least Atem seemed to be bundled up in a house robe.

Atem didn’t seem to hear the door, didn’t seem to hear Seto walking closer, bare feet on the smooth, cool wood of the patio.

“Atem,” Seto huffed, low, hoping not to startle him, so deep in reverie.

Only Atem’s eyes flicked up, washed dark and light and colorless in the moonlight. He stared for a moment. Both corners of his mouth seemed to be tugged down into a faint frown. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said after that long minute of silence.

Seto sighed, stepped closer, until he was just at Atem’s shoulder. Atem’s chin tipped up to follow the motion. The silver light gleamed coldly on his dark skin. “You didn’t,” Seto sighed.

No, Atem himself didn’t wake Seto. It was the _absence_ of Atem that had roused Seto from his slumber.

Not that Seto would admit that out loud.

“What are you doing out here?”

Atem’s eyes closed, dark eyelashes casting spidery shadows on his cheeks. Now Seto could see it, the way exhaustion was washed into every facet of Atem’s expression. “Thinking. Trying not to think. I’m not really sure anymore.” He leaned in, shoulder and cheek resting against Seto’s waist and stomach.

Seto’s hand mindlessly reached for that wild hair, cooled by night, and he carded his fingers through it. He could only watch Atem’s face.

Which crumpled, pained, anguished, as Atem’s hands tightened around the mug. He kept his eyes firmly closed. “I… I have done many wrong things. Horrible things. Things for which I will never forgive myself.” His voice was dark and rough, ragged with agony.

“We all have,” Seto replied, quiet, understanding. He’d heard some of the tales. Hell, he’d starred in some of them. He was hardly in any place to judge; he’d done his fair share of dirty deeds.

Atem sighed then, eyes opening. Raw, enchanting. Just like always, Seto couldn’t look away from those haunted eyes.

“But it’s been years,” Seto continued, kneading his fingers into Atem’s scalp. “It’s time to keep the past in the past.”

Atem’s eyes closed again, this time in bliss, and a small, wry smile twitched at his lips. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Seto snorted. “Whatever.”

They stood in silence for a few more moments. Well, silent save for Atem’s pleased hums.

A chilling breeze gusted, and it cut right through Seto’s nightclothes. Suddenly, he felt the cold stiffness of his feet, of the hand not occupied with massaging the back of Atem’s neck.

“Fuck,” he hissed, shivering. “It’s fucking cold out here. We’re going inside.”

Atem huffed a laugh. “Sorry. Yes, let’s.”

The relative heat of the manor was oh so welcoming, and Seto quietly reveled in it as he waited for Atem to finish his coffee.

“By the way, weird choice in late-night beverage,” he jibed as Atem set his mug in the sink and cleaned up the supplies.

Atem only smiled, and within the next ten minutes they were curling under the covers, just barely brushing each other’s edges.

“Thank you, Seto.”

Seto only hummed, already drifting back to sleep, warm and cozy, Atem’s hand curled loosely in his own.


	2. Black Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaiba may or may not have discovered a lipstick kink. And it's totally not because of Atem. Nope, no siree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 2 -- Desire
> 
> Pre-relationship. Rated T

“They looked like they had a lot of fun,” Mokuba sighed. _That_ sigh, the melodramatic teen sigh, the sigh he made when he didn’t get his way.

Privately, Seto rolled his eyes.

“They took a bunch of pictures.”

Seto continued typing.

“They really dressed up for it, too.”

Typing, perhaps a tic of his jaw if anyone were to pay enough attention.

Then Mokuba’s mopey tone shot up into levels of pure incredulity. “Holy shit, is Atem wearing _lipstick?”_

That made Seto’s head snap up, both startled by the tone and the statement itself. “What?”

“Look!” and Mokuba was darting over, his phone held up, a picture Yugi posted on his Instagram on the screen.

Both Atem and Yugi were slicked in black leather, studded chokers, and dark wristbands. They were surrounded by people and bright lights in the darkness – a concert, Seto recalled, one that he had forbade Mokuba from attending (it was a school night, dammit). But he focused on Atem’s face, his bronzed skin looking washed out in the flash of the camera, but the makeup he was wearing was obvious. Kohl-lined eyes, black polish on fingernails, lips coated in… matte black lipstick.

Yugi was matching him, but Seto could hardly see him. Tunnel-vision, laser-focused, on those lips. Their shape, curved and innately sensual and seductive, was accentuated, stark, especially against his pearly white teeth.

“It was Atem’s first concert. Yugi really had him go all-out.”

But Seto hardly heard the words, and he almost protested when Mokuba was drawing away to scroll through more photos. He caught himself, last minute, but he did it.

His brain seemed to be automatically sifting through his memories, like fingertips running over files in a cabinet, occasionally pulling one out to flip through it before replacing it where it belongs. Memories of Atem, of his lips moving, of smirks and smiles and the smallest pouts, but with black superimposed over it.

Black lipstick.

Some of it, just barely, not enough for less observant people to notice, had smeared onto his teeth in that photo.

Messy, that black lipstick was messy. It would smear a lot, probably, if Atem was kissed. Passionately. Hungrily. Seto wondered for a moment about the taste of it on his tongue, the feel of it on his own lips. It would smear on him, too, probably. Marked, branded with that inky black kiss.

He exhaled roughly, his fingertips automatically reaching up to press into the curve of his lower lip.

Would it be slick? Or tacky, sticking to him like almost-dry paint with each motion of Atem’s mouth?

Would it smear onto skin, if Atem were to kiss his neck, his chest, along the line of his collarbone? Silly as it was, he imagined dainty black lip prints on the collar of one of his pristine white shirts.

Suddenly, a hand was shaking at Seto’s shoulder, and he wildly looked to the person grasping at him.

“Seto! Earth to Seto, c’mon, bro, I’m trying to talk to you!”

Seto shook his head, palmed his face to hide the blush coloring his cheeks.

“Stop distracting me while I’m trying to work,” he grumbled.

Mokuba kept babbling, and Seto tried his damnedest not to think of a messy, blackened kiss with his sworn nemesis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kaiba doesn't want to kiss Atem! Why the hell would you think that? smh


	3. Exuberance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atem encounters a chocolate fountain for the first time. It's quite entertaining to watch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 3 -- Hot Cocoa
> 
> Rated G, pre-relationship.
> 
> I played a little fast and loose with the prompt this time. My thought process was this: hot cocoa --> hot chocolate --> melted chocolate --> chocolate fountain.
> 
> This is set before "Black Kiss," BTW. I'm thinking that when we get to the end I'll put up a chronological index of the chapters so you can read them in order, if you want.

Kaiba couldn’t take credit for the idea; it was his publicist who off-handedly brought up the notion of such an event. He wasn’t particularly fond of the idea, either, as it had no purpose other than to bring publicity to the upcoming Duel Monsters tournament he was hosting.

Yet, there he stood. Drifting from the hors d’oeuvres to the champagne and the chocolate fountain, all his former competitors chatted happily. The Battle City finalists, and all their companions, were once again in the same room. Thankfully, this time, there was a lot less tension, though the journalists and photographers scuttling about the room were more than enough to stir up existential anxiety. Yugi and his band of devout followers, the Ishtar family, even Kujaku Mai was in their midst. Several Duelists who just barely didn’t make the cut were also present, for publicity’s sake, the KC publicist had said. God forbid the media think worse of a certain Kaiba Seto.

From his corner with his barely touched glass of champagne, Kaiba eyed the crowd with cold eyes. He scanned over them counting their faces until he stopped, with all the suddenness of slamming the brakes on a fast car, at the figures standing before the chocolate fountain.

Those two heads of wild hair were unmistakable.

Something loosened in Kaiba’s chest, and he exhaled slowly.

Atem had, at first, declined the invitation, and yet there he stood.

Seto frowned.

What on earth was he doing?

Atem seemed to be frozen, staring at the molten chocolate cascading in silky waves with something akin to befuddlement or perhaps awe. His lips moved, head moving just slightly, as he said something to Yugi. Yugi’s head kicked back, and his laughter was audible from across the room.

Yugi nudged his elbow into Atem’s side – denting the heather black material of his blazer for that ephemeral moment. Atem shook his head in response, and his eyes were riveted on the dessert fountain again. He warily eyed Jounouchi, who reached forward with a rice puff treat on a stick to dip it under the infinite sheet of chocolate. The treat was now coated with warm, dripping, shiny sweetness, and Jounouchi twirled the stick with a surprising amount of finesse to keep it from running too much and simultaneously cool it off.

With a laugh, he proffered the stick, and Atem took it with all the caution befitting a man fearing poison. He seemed doubtful, even as his circle of friends encouraged him to try the dessert. With a sigh deep enough for Kaiba to see all the way from across the room, Atem sank his teeth into the treat.

His face softened, eyes closing as he chewed, and Kaiba could imagine the contented gust of his breath. Atem ate the rest of it with a savoring kind of gusto, and, throughout the rest of the night, if one paid close enough attention, one would notice the way that Atem periodically slunk up to the chocolate fountain to sneak another treat, be it the puffed rice or a strawberry – or once, interestingly enough, one of the hors d’oeuvres. _That_ had resulted in quite the interesting face – one that said that if he weren’t in public, Atem would have spat the mouthful out.

It was inevitable that their orbits would collide, and Kaiba stared stonily down at the man before him. It was so subtle, not noticeable unless Atem opened his mouth just wide enough while talking and one was laser-focused on the spot; he had the tiniest bit of chocolate smeared on one corner of his mouth.

“I see you’ve been enjoying the chocolate fountain,” Kaiba said, matter of fact and more than a little smug.

Atem’s lip pursed, a little, not enough to be obnoxious but enough to communicate clearly, and his vivid eyes stared unwaveringly back up. Always so resolute, this one.

“I don’t mean anything by it,” Kaiba continued, though the slow drawl of his words said otherwise. “It’s the first one you’ve ever seen, right?”

Atem sniffed, shifting on his feet, eyes drifting longingly back over to the fountain in question. “Yes.”

“Don’t eat too many sweets. It wouldn’t do if the almighty pharaoh got a stomachache,” Kaiba teased, and even he was confused by his tone, the warm slickness of it.

Atem raised his chin, crimson eyes gleaming stolidly in the overhead lighting. It seemed that even here, in the modern age in a cheap suit, Atem had all the poise and regality befitting his former station. “I am not a child, Kaiba.”

“I never said you were,” Kaiba said, lips quirking up, unaware just how unwavering and intense his gaze in that moment was, though he was totally aware of just how consuming and rousing that resolute stare was. “You may be short, but you’re anything but a child.”

Atem huffed, lips parting, but Kaiba was moving away, away from his confusion about his own small but nonetheless strange lapse in behavior.

He’d get to talk to Atem more later, he was sure.

* * *

It turned out that he didn’t – too many other people had decided to eat up his time, and all he got were passing glances at his arch nemesis for the rest of the evening.

The next day, however, he got a chuckle out of the news Mokuba relayed to him – Atem ate enough chocolate to give himself a stomachache and apparently bemoaned the fact endlessly while swearing off sweets for the rest of his life.

Kaiba smiled a lot that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kaiba doesn't know how to flirt and also didn't realize that he was, in fact, flirting. 
> 
> Because WHY WOULD HE WANT TO FLIRT WITH ATEM? Why would you assume that he would want to do that?! Ridiculous. He doesn't want to flirt with Atem! Gross!
> 
> (I don't know if you guys have noticed but I've been having a ton of fun with these so far, so thanks for reading!)


	4. New Roots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaiba coincidentally discovers where Atem has been working since his return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 4 -- Flowers
> 
> Rated G, pre-relationship, set AFTER "Exuberance" (hot cocoa) but BEFORE "Black Kiss" (Desire).

It was a warm spring day. Not hot, thankfully, but warm. That lazy kind of warm, the kind of warm that evoked images of cats napping in sunlit windowsills or reptiles basking on dark rocks, or of clear yellow sunlight and singing birds and sweet breezes.

Here, the air was thick and heady with the scent of blossoms and pollen and nectar.

Kaiba sniffed. Good thing he’d remembered to take his allergy medication before he arrived.

It was the Domino Botanical Gardens’ annual Spring Bloom gala, a party held in the honor of the various donors who supported the establishment.

Kaiba just so happened to be one of them.

The Domino Botanical Gardens did a lot of important work for the community; communal vegetable gardens that taught the local children how to be self-sufficient and eat healthy, the New Roots program that offered entry-level positions to former convicts and immigrants, and conversation efforts to keep the surrounding bee population alive and well, just to name a few. This gala was one of the only events of its kind that Kaiba actually enjoyed attending. The gardens showcased brilliantly just how effectively funds were put to use, with staff on site for tours to demonstrate just where all of that money went.

They had all the benefactors gathered in the courtyard. Constructed from concrete molded by the staff themselves, a fountain sat in the middle of a well-bricked courtyard. The water bubbling from it sparkled brilliantly in the sun. At the edges of the courtyard, flowering sakura and crabapple trees groped their shadows over the tawny bricks. Pale pink blossoms swayed in the sweet breeze, and the occasional petal floated off to gather about the trunks and clumps of decorative grass and the bases of beautifully pruned bushes.

Without the crowd, it would have been one beautiful, serene view.

Kaiba made a note to visit more often.

Suddenly in their midst, a staff member raised a sign indicating for the first tour group to coalesce.

Kaiba ambled over, for once taking his time as he enjoyed the cultivated beauty of the Domino Botanical Gardens. From the parting crowd, he could finally make out the staff member holding up the sign.

And nearly stumbled over thin air.

He paused, lifted the pamphlet given to him as he had arrived. Beneath a section labelled **Event Staff** , there a photo of him sat, labelled “Mutou Atem.”

Kaiba looked back up.

Atem’s brown skin seemed even richer in the warm spring sunshine, as if he luxuriated in the bright rays like the plants he apparently tended. His dark hair, reflecting red when positioned just right, was tied neatly back, though the loose blonde fringe still dangled about his cheeks. He was beaming, a smile so wide and so brilliant, a smile like nothing Kaiba had ever seen on that regal face before.

He hadn’t seemed to notice Kaiba yet, as he was in idle but exuberant conversation with one of the other benefactors. As he laughed, quiet but low and rumbling, his chest moved just slightly under the green fitted polo with the DBG’s logo on the right breast.

“Yes, I was hired under the New Roots program,” Atem said with a nod, then he thumbed at his chest. “I’m an immigrant.”

Ah, yes. The Ishtars had fabricated documentation for him, and with a good word, had managed to get Atem Japanese citizenship under the guise of immigration.

“Where are you from? Your family name is Mutou, and you certainly do look a lot like—”

“Mutou Yugi, yes,” Atem laughed, pearly teeth flashing again. “I am from Egypt,” he told the woman, and the group looked at him with rounded eyes. “Yugi and I share a grandparent.”

Lies. But Kaiba supposed Atem needed _some_ sort of reason for his uncanny resemblance to his former host.

The woman opened her mouth again, undoubtedly another invasive question perched on her tongue, when Kaiba finally joined the ring.

Atem startled upon seeing him, red eyes widening, but still he smiled brightly. “Kaiba,” he greeted, voice painted with surprise. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Kaiba tipped his head in greeting.

“You know him personally?” the woman asked, but Atem just hummed, politely shutting down the line of conversation.

“Well, there’s all ten of you. I guess we should get started then, shouldn’t we?”

* * *

“Ah, here is where we have our semi-aquatic and aquatic freshwater plants,” Atem said, gesturing with caged excitement that still didn’t manage to mar his seemingly inherent grace. “It’s my favorite area.” He sighed happily, looking out over the serene pond with its clumps of leaves and dormant lotuses. “Reminds me of home.” His chin turned just the slightest amount, and it hit Kaiba like a tidal wave, the vivid image of a god-king in his beloved gardens, solemn eyes overlooking a lush oasis in the harsh dunes of the desert.

Later, when they had returned to the courtyard, where spring-themed refreshments were being served to the guests, Atem lingered at Kaiba’s side.

“I heard that you were a major donor, but I hadn’t thought that you would attend,” Atem commented quietly while they both looked out over the blossoming trees.

“I attend every year.”

“It just… doesn’t seem like your scene,” Atem elucidated, a little wry.

“You’d be surprised,” Kaiba replied. “But I would think the same of you, Pharaoh. Senior groundskeeper? I wouldn’t have pegged you for one who likes to get his hands dirty,” Kaiba cut him a sly side glance, but Atem was still looking out, the faintest of smiles on his face.

“I quite like it, actually,” Atem said, eyes flicking this way and that to follow the falling sakura petals. “Every ounce of care, every minute of nurturing… it all shows in the end. The results are always so beautiful.” He sighed, a little wistful, Kaiba would think. “I love Domino. I love my new life. But… the city is so stale and gray. The desert was harsh but… I remember so vividly the oasis of the palace, the gardens, the reeds and the lotuses and the trees and the animals that took shelter there. It was paradise.” He finally glanced up to meet Kaiba’s eyes, and his lips curved more deeply into a smile. “I was so happy to find a little slice of that right here.”

Kaiba wasn’t sure what to saw to that, because, for once, when met with a raw emotional response, he didn’t want to meet it with derision.

Atem chuckled and shrugged, looking away. “Anyway, I find that I very much enjoy working with my hands. Turns out I have quite the green thumb.”

Kaiba hummed in response.

Later, after most of the guests had thinned out, Kaiba saw once last glimpse of Atem, drifting under the canopy of pale blossoms, and their petals rained down so gently upon his form as he ambled about like he was surveying his kingdom.

The king of the paradise in a concrete jungle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like making characters multi-faceted. It's so fun. And I really do think that Atem would like gardening. I really do think that Kaiba would be 100% into non-profits, especially those that help children or the disadvantaged. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed.


	5. Blush Tones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atem discovers his favorite color at Kaiba's expense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 5 -- Red
> 
> Rated T, pre-relationship. 
> 
> So, I added the tags "Slow Burn" and "Slow Romance" because, in actuality, all of the pre-relationship drabbles take place over the span of two years. That being said, this takes place quite a while after "Black Kiss" but long before "2 AM" (so between chapter 1 and 2, though closer to 2 than 1 [there is now a chronological chapter index in the end notes of this story if you want to keep track of the order as I continue to fill out the prompts]).

Atem liked many colors. That endless blue of the sea, the royal purple of richly-dyed fabrics, the blazing yellow-orange-peach of a brilliant sunset, the lush green of well-tended trees in summer, the pale pink of sakura and crabapple blossoms, the dark and warm brown of fertile earth, the tawny shades of the untouched dunes in the desert.

The world was filled with color, and he adored every hue of it. Anytime he was asked what his favorite was (a modern question, since nobody had the thought to think about such subjects way back then), he always had a hard time answering.

Why couldn’t they all be his favorite? It was unfair.

But, over the course of that year, his point of view began to change drastically.

He came to the startling realization in the summer.

It was hot and balmy, and the concrete and pavement everywhere only heightened the heat to a blistering, mind-numbing crescendo. Yugi sent him off with several water bottles in his pack every day and an adorably stern order to stay hydrated _or else_. Whatever that meant. But Atem was no stranger to heat waves and was one of the only staff members who managed to work through the blazing temperatures. However, that didn’t mean he didn’t feel the effects, since every night he came home caked with sweat and dirt and grime. Yugi immediately shooed him to the bathroom whenever he came home in such a manner.

It was routine at that point, though with the littlest variations every once and a while.

Until, of course, the one workday that had a considerably _large_ variation.

He walked through the front door to the game shop, minutes before official closing, and the bell above his head gave its cheerful ring.

In that narrow room were two people that Atem certainly did not expect.

Mokuba turned from where he stood in front of the counter and waved over his shoulder. “Hi, Atem!”

Kaiba, standing a ways off and quietly surveying the cards in a display case, suddenly whipped his head up, and their eyes met for what seemed to be one long startling moment. He quickly looked away, back to the card display.

“Oh god, you’re filthy,” Yugi bemoaned. “Shower, immediately.”

Atem laughed, loud and bright.

“You look like you’ve been digging around in the dirt all day,” Mokuba said, giggling behind his hand.

“That’s because I have.” Atem stepped farther in.

“I’m so glad it’s like two minutes before closing,” Yugi grumbled, busying himself with the register. “You’d scare off all the customers with your _man stench_.”

Atem raised his eyebrows. “You forget that we shared a body during your formative teen years. I _know_ being Mutou Yugi isn’t all lilacs and roses, either.”

“That was then, this is _now._ And _now_ you really need a shower.”

Atem could only laugh again when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. Kaiba’s head had turned again, away, as if he had taken the smallest glance while Atem wasn’t paying attention. He was back to pretending to investigate the display case. The tip of his ear was bright red, and the color was slowly spreading downward, over the lobe and along the thing slice of cheek that Atem could see.

Atem bit back his smirk.

Cute.

He’d long gathered that his attraction toward Kaiba was amply reciprocated (especially since Kaiba seemed to find every excuse to “bump into” Atem), but… still…

This development required further investigation.

* * *

When Atem came out of the bathroom, the game shop was closed, but Kaiba and Mokuba remained, each taking up a space on a stool at the tiny breakfast bar in the kitchen. Atem stepped in, his semi-damp hair still catching and clinging at his cheeks and the back of his neck. Yugi and Mokuba were both hunched over Yugi’s phone, and Kaiba was tapping away on his own phone.

No one seemed to notice Atem – save for Sekhmet, who immediately began to twine through his legs and meow plaintively as he walked as she was wont to do – and he ducked into the fridge to pull out an apple. He hummed, anticipating the treat before him. It was one of many from a particularly delicious batch, crisp but juicy and that subtle sweetness.

He turned to lean against the counter in front of the sink, and he admired the shine of the apple in the bright kitchen lights.

He glanced up.

Red caught blue.

Atem held out the apple. “Would you like one, Kaiba?”

Kaiba looked away, toward the phone in his hand, and he shook his head. Kept shaking his head, as if he needed to shake the word free, “No.” That _blush_ was back, starting again at the tips of his ears an then migrating down and out, then up, to his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.

Atem bit into his apple to hide his grin. Seemed like the black skin-tight tank top was the right choice.

It seemed, no matter how hard he tried – to look at his phone, to look here, there, anywhere but at Atem – Kaiba couldn’t keep his eyes away.

It was all going according to plan, too – the juice of the apple squelched from between Atem’s teeth when they pierced the firm skin of the fruit, and he tugged the piece off to chew, unmindful of the juice trickling from his lips and down his wrist.

Kaiba’s eyes were wide, so, so wide, disks of empyrean blue…

And that face, so red it looked hot to the touch, so red that Kaiba looked _livid_ , ready to have a goddamned _aneurysm._

He stood up abruptly, the stool skidding loudly across the kitchen tile behind him.

“Mokuba, we are leaving. _Now_.”

Atem licked the juice of his wrist – all slow and sensual, intense eye contact all the while – and it wasn’t broken until Kaiba stormed off.

“What! Why?!” Mokuba called after him.

From down the hall, “Something came up!” And Atem finally let his diabolical smirk break through when Kaiba’s voice cracked.

Mokuba sighed, rolled his eyes, but ultimately scampered after his older brother.

Yugi frowned, craning his head to look down the hallway as they went. He turned to look back at Atem. “What on earth was that about?”

Atem shrugged and took the next bite out of his apple.

Yes, there were all sorts of colors in the world – the brilliant yellow of a towering sunflower, the elegant white of untouched snow, the warm orange of a welcoming candleflame, but that day, he discovered, all the colors in the world paled in comparison to a certain Kaiba Seto’s lurid red blush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my favorite Atems to write is evil-little-shit Atem, so of course he made an appearance in this drabble series. 
> 
> (Also, Kaiba getting all melty over virile-and-sweaty-and-dirty Atem is my kink and no one can stop me, bahahaHAHAHAHAAAA.)


	6. 5% Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaiba challenges Atem to a Duel because that's how he simultaneously avoids and processes his feelings. It rains, and something happens that's been long in the making.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 6 -- Shower
> 
> Rated T, pre-relationship. This is the chronological sequel to "Blush Tones." This two are dumb nerds. This chapter is all over the place because Kaiba Seto is an inherently chaotic individual. It's also the longest chapter yet (because keeping things short is always so short-lived for me), so I hope that that isn't too bothersome!
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Normally in the summer, the halls of Kaiba Manor were quiet. Mokuba was normally off enjoying the sun and the freedom with his friends, and this time of year was often the busiest for Kaiba. The best time to have a tournament, after all, was in the summer, when the school children were on break. And if not a tournament, then he usually had a variety of Kaibaland projects or promotions with which to occupy himself.

So the corridors of Kaiba Manor were usually filled with warm sunlight from the numerous windows, but empty save for the paintings on the walls and the occasional side table with flowers cut from the estate’s gardens. Today, however, found Kaiba Seto, lord of the manor himself, about the rooms and the halls.

Mokuba had friends over, as well, and he could hear the distant sounds of their revelry from his home office. He could shut the door, but he didn’t. He sat there, nursing a cup of ice tea, his desk chair turned to one side so he could look out over the gardens in the expansive backyard.

He liked the sound, he decided – it made him happy to hear Mokuba enjoying himself – and, he could admit, he was listening for a _particular_ voice, the one so deep a baritone it always made the nerves on the back of his neck tingle deliciously. He knew Mokuba invited Yugi and that Jounouchi, but whether Atem could come was always up in the air, since his job at the botanical gardens had no set week-to-week schedule.

He sighed.

He’d never been one to avoid problems or challenges, yet here he was, holed up in his office instead of going to just _check_ like a normal human being.

(Perhaps he still wasn’t fully recovered from the incident a couple of weeks ago, during that awful heatwave, though that wasn’t what had fried his brain cells so embarrassingly. How was it legal for anyone to exude that much _raw sexuality?_ It was absurd.)

He sighed again, though more forceful, like his breath needed to be shoved from his lungs to make room for the motivation to stand. Stand he did, and, glass in hand, he ambled out into the hallway. It wasn’t too long before he was going down those ridiculous double-winged stairs to the first floor, then to the wing where Mokuba kept his entertainment room.

The sound of laughter and boasting and game music and sound effects became louder, and then he was leaning against the doorjamb. On the large flat-screen television, some sort of racing game played, the screen divided into quadrants for the individual players. Four players.

Mokuba, his head of wild, dark hair just barely poking up over the back of the couch, The tips of Yugi’s hair, Jounouchi leaning forward, elbows on his knees as he handled the remote roughly, as if the harder he pressed the buttons and joysticks the faster his motorized avatar could go.

And Atem, leaning forward as well, but more relaxed, save for the tension around his shoulders.

“Dammit! I hate these controls!” Jounouchi whined.

“It’s not the controls. You’re just bad at this game,” Mokuba snarked. The corners of Kaiba’s lips lifted just slightly.

“To be fair, it’s his first time playing it,” Yugi offered, then blew the air out of his cheeks melodramatically when a missile crashed into his vehicle and threw it off the track.

“Yeah! Give the beginners a break!”

“It’s Atem’s first time playing, too, and he’s currently winning,” Mokuba commented, lifting his shoulders briefly.

Atem only hummed, wholly focused on the screen before him.

“Atem doesn’t count,” Yugi and Jounouchi said simultaneously.

They laughed, until Jounouchi cursed because he rammed rather forcibly into the track bumpers and had to maneuver his way into going the right direction again.

“And he’s hardly talking, which only happens when he’s really, _really_ focused,” Jounouchi added, “So obviously it’s a hard game.”

Kaiba rolled his eyes and took a sip of his tea.

A quadrant darkened save for a bright banner cutting across it, and Atem sat up straight, arms relaxing as his hands dropped into his lap. “It is a difficult game to learn,” Atem said quietly.

Yugi cut a close second, and Mokuba crossed a bare ten seconds after. Jounouchi managed to eek up a few places higher before he finally crossed the finish line.

Kaiba snorted. Mokuba was pretty average at this particular game, but he was in no way surprised at the outcome of the race. After all, Atem had an incredibly sharp learning curve, especially when it came to technology, and Yugi also had an intuitive skill at most games.

“What a bunch of amateurs,” Kaiba drawled, and four head simultaneously whipped toward him.

“Seto!” Mokuba cried happily, practically stumbling over the back of the couch to reach him. “Play with us!”

“Yeah man, ya gotta play or you’re all talk and no game, pal,” Jounouchi huffed.

Yugi just beamed, excited at the prospect of including Kaiba (which was both frighteningly heartwarming and undeniably annoying), and Atem stared at him with those intense red eyes that make him feel like he had a lump in his throat.

He struggled to break the gaze, and he looked back down at Mokuba who was all but vibrating with excitement.

Kaiba snorted then, and ambled around to sit at one of the ridiculously large armchairs. Mokuba handed him the controller.

“I hope you’re ready to take notes, because you are about to get schooled.”

It was Atem who replied, and it was like watching a sheet drop down over him, the way his dormant competitiveness unfurled from its hidden place to drape over his shoulders and harden his eyes. “Bring it on, Kaiba.”

That lump was gone, and his breath seemed sharp but fluid all at once. “Oh, I intend to.”

* * *

There was only a handful of seconds before Kaiba would cross the finish line, but suddenly Atem was there, bearing down at him, then neck-and-neck before suddenly zipping ahead. Atem’d used his booster sparingly, Kaiba suddenly realized, and had relied on clean turns and nearly scientific acceleration methods to stay with the herd until the last possible moment, in which he’d broken free and torn past Kaiba like a rocket.

 **2 nd Place**, Kaiba’s banner read, and he hissed, glaring at Atem’s quadrant.

Kaiba whipped his head over to glare hotly, and he scowled even harder when he saw Atem’s smugly grinning face. Atem’s lips parted then, and there was a flash of red, there one second and gone the next, between Kaiba’s blinks, and he wondered if he really saw what he that he saw, but Atem’s saucy wink only confirmed it.

_He just stuck his tongue out at me!_

“You son of a bitch,” Kaiba hissed.

“Now, Kaiba, just because you lost doesn’t mean you have to resort to foul language,” Atem clucked, wagging a slender finger.

Kaiba gritted his teeth and was prepared to snap out a reply, but Jounouchi had practically leapt across the length of the couch to catch Atem around the shoulders in a one-armed hug.

“That was awesome! You smoked him!”

The fumes were building up in Kaiba’s head, the pressure growing and growing, pressing at his eyes and foaming on his tongue as he seethed, _stick your tongue out at me again and I’ll bite it, Atem_ and _wag a finger one more time and you’ll regret it_ , and he would, Kaiba assured himself heatedly, he’d bite that tongue and kiss until bruising and pull that stupid hair until that smug smirk fell off Atem’s stupidly shapely lips.

Kaiba stood, suddenly towering over the four on the couch, and he glared down at Atem as his shaking hands curled into fists. “We’re going to duel. Right the fuck now.”

“How do you know if I even have my deck on me?” Atem asked, and Kaiba could see it, could see it in those sparkling crimson eyes, just how _delighted_ Atem was to see Kaiba losing his composure.

_Which he was not!_

(He totally was – his composure was actually in shreds all over the floor and now he was two more sly comments away from throwing Atem over his shoulder to storm off somewhere to really _teach him a lesson_.)

“Don’t be stupid,” he replied. “I know you have it.”

Atem’s grin grew. “I do. But it will be tabletop. I don’t have a duel disk on me.”

No, _no_ , **_no_**. No tabletop. Kaiba needed big flashy holograms to suit his big angry feelings right now. “Don’t you know whose house you are in? You’re going to use a duel disk and that’s final.”

Atem’s lips pursed tremulously, and Kaiba _knew_ that the fucker was trying his best not to laugh. “Fine then. I have a single concession,” and he stood from the couch. He was nearly a foot shorter than Kaiba – even after they both had their last late-teen growth spurt – but when he _stared_ like that, suddenly hard and determined, every ounce the noble god-king he used to be, he seemed to _loom_ over Kaiba like a righteous deity from on high.

“Name it,” Kaiba spat. “It better not be anything ridiculous.”

Atem’s chin raised. “I want to do it outside. In courtyard by the gardens.’

“Strange, but done,” Kaiba agreed. They’d have more room that way anyways. “Let’s go.”

* * *

There were clouds on the horizon when they got outside.

“Is it supposed to rain today?” Yugi asked nervously.

“The forecast said that there was only a five percent chance of precipitation,” Mokuba replied.

“It doesn’t matter either way,” Kaiba cut in, gruff, as he accepted the duel disk held out to him by one of the house staff members. “This will be over with long before any inclement weather.”

“I’m sure it will,” Atem said, the hints of a grin tugging at his lips as he slid a duel disk over his arm and put his deck in the slot. They walked to opposite ends of the circular path of open ground in the courtyard. “What are the stakes, Kaiba?”

Kaiba snorted. “The winner is the winner, and the loser is the fucking loser.”

Atem huffed a laugh. “Deal.”

And the duel started.

* * *

Kaiba could swear, there was nothing like this.

This swell, this rush, this wave threatening to take him away. Adrenaline, so pure and exhilarating, making his heart pound and his arteries throbbed. No matter where their life points were, they were always toe-to-toe, pushing and pulling, a dance of traps and damage and summoning monsters and seeing them get blasted away into a cloud of holographic particles.

Atem was so close, barely hanging on by a thread, but he still had that resolution about him in the set of his eyebrows and lips. Kaiba wondered if Atem felt the same things, this same enrapturing intensity, inescapable gravity.

So caught up in their Duel, they hardly noticed the dark clouds rolling over them and blocking out the sun.

Their audience of three called to them to no avail, and soon they had an audience of none.

If they wanted to get rained on, that was _their_ decision.

Kaiba fired off another attack, and Atem’s monster burst into pixelated granules. His life points ticked down. He only had fifty left.

Atem faltered then, a hand coming up to his chest. He heaved with a few strong, panicked breaths.

Kaiba laughed, victorious. “Finally feeling the pressure, almighty Pharaoh?” he cackled.

Atem seemed to catch his breath quickly, and he glared up with those captivating eyes. The fire deep in them had never died – no, it seemed with each hit Atem took, it grew bigger, _stronger_ , a raging inferno, a terrific force of nature. “I wouldn’t gloat just yet, Kaiba. This Duel is hardly over!”

He drew his next card, and though his face didn’t give anything away, the set of his shoulders changed, fluid but noticeable under Kaiba’s keen scrutiny.

Kaiba’s stomach dropped.

Because, just like always, Atem managed to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat within the next three turns, and as the holographic dust cleared, they stared across the courtyard at one another.

Kaiba was too breathless to react.

Then, suddenly, he felt it, dripping onto his hair and face and shoulders. It was rain. Dribbling, a light sprinkle. But tension throbbed in the air – the crackling static of a thunderstorm bearing down upon them.

Atem hissed, gathering up his deck and putting it in its protective holder, and Kaiba rushed to do the same. They both turned to rush inside… and the heavens split open.

The water came down in torrential sheets, nearly obscuring Kaiba’s vision as he picked up into a run, his hand whipping out to grab Atem by his wrist.

Through the roar of the rain, Atem’s laugh echoed. Their shoes slapped wetly on the neat bricks of the pathway. Kaiba could barely see past the water dripping into his eyes. Atem’s wrist beneath his palm was slick, but he managed to keep a firm grip until they were under the shelter of the awning on the patio.

Soaked to the skin, clothing slicked to their forms, they looked out over the garden, now tinted gray by the fierce downpour.

Atem looked out, breathless, face glistening, hair clinging to his cheeks like veins of gold leaf. He laughed, just a quiet huff. “That was quite the experience.” Slowly, he turned to meet Kaiba’s gaze. Droplets of water beaded on his thick eyelashes, and the black of his kohl eyeliner was beginning to run down his cheeks in thinning trails. His smile grew, flashing pearly teeth and dimpling his reddened face. “That was a wonderful Duel, Kaiba. We both played well.”

Kaiba’s breath sawed from lungs roughly, wetly.

Atem’s lips, seemingly flushed, parted again, but Kaiba caught his next words against a kiss. The free hand, the one without the now inconvenient Duel Disk strapped to it, cupped that cheek, so warm and slick and threatening to slip away from the lack of friction, so Kaiba anchored his fingers in that unruly hair. Atem gasped, his hot breath fanning against the wet skin of Kaiba’s face, and then his arm was up, his hand sinking into Kaiba’s clinging hair, to pull Kaiba further down as he rocked up onto his toes to reach. Lips popping together and apart, together and apart, over and over, against the ambient backdrop of rain thundering to the ground.

Kaiba’s hand slid down of its own volition to cup the side of Atem’s neck, and he felt Atem’s pulse pound against his palm, felt his breath heave under his fingers and hiss against his face and hitch as Atem made a low, _broken_ sound in the back of his throat. Kaiba’s whole body thrummed in response, and he flicked his tongue out to swipe along that lower lip, graze those pearly bottom teeth. Atem tasted like rain and black tea.

Atem licked back, slow but eager, and they pressed closer together, wet clothes squelching between them.

This kiss was a long time in the making, Kaiba dimly knew, longer than that Duel, longer than that day, longer than that summer, longer than the past two years, longer than the years during high school, when Atem had no name but still had Kaiba snared in his crushing gravity. It was a thought he’d later dismiss as the hormonal prattling of a reeling mind, but in that moment, he could swear that the whole universe had been waiting breathlessly for this kiss.

Behind his closed eyelids, Kaiba saw the brilliant white flash, and the resounding _boom_ of thunder that followed close at its heels like a monstrous baying hound. Atem gasped, startling in Kaiba’s grip, and Kaiba had half the mind to catch him, to catch and hold him close to mold their bodies together while they were still wet and malleable.

Atem laughed, low and raspy and making Kaiba’s mind spin dizzily, and his voice was husky against Kaiba’s lips when he said, “I think we should probably head inside, now.”

And Kaiba led the way inside, his wet fingers twining with Atem’s, even though he wanted to stay out there, in that world of kisses that had summoned the thunder and of tension that had brought down the rain.

“I hope the Duel Disks aren’t ruined,” Atem muttered, fiddling with the thing when they were standing, dripping wet in the kitchen.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Kaiba managed around the lump in his throat.

Atem hummed another laugh, and he tugged at Kaiba’s hand until Kaiba looked at him. He was still looking so delectably wet, but now with swollen lips and smeared makeup and bright eyes. Kaiba wanted to kiss him again. (And again and again and _again_.) “I’ve been waiting for that for a long time, Kaiba,” he said, quiet, searching Kaiba’s face. Kaiba wondered what he was looking for.

Kaiba made a low sound in his throat, even as he brought a hand up to cup Atem’s cheek again, to stroke his lower lip with a shaking thumb. “Well, if you were getting so impatient, you should have done something about it.”

Atem sighed, _melting_ , leaning into Kaiba’s hand. “I didn’t want to push your boundaries too much.” He puckered his lips against the pad of Kaiba’s thumb. “You had to come to me.”

Kaiba growled then, low in his throat, and he tugged Atem close, when voices down the hall echoed to them.

“Who won?” Mokuba called, his feet thumping loudly as he sprinted down the hall.

Kaiba’s hand dropped, and they simultaneously took a step back. The moment felt too young and fragile to be see by eyes other than their own.

“Atem won,” Kaiba replied, meeting that intense red gaze.

Atem always won.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idiots finally kiss. Smh 
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this chapter and I hope you guys had just as much fun reading it! I'm hoping to get the "Scarf" prompt done today, too, but we'll see how that goes.


	7. The Pharaoh's New Clothes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atem likes a scarf he finds in the coat closet. Turns out it's Kaiba's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 7 -- Scarf
> 
> Rated T, pre-relationship. This is set after "Black Kiss" but in the winter before "Blush Tones."
> 
> (The title is a play on "The Emperor's New Clothes")

Cold was no foreigner to Atem. In the desert, after the sun went down, the sands released all the heat they had gathered throughout the day, and the lack of cloud cover provided no insulation. The temperature often dropped below freezing, and the people of Khemet bundled themselves away in their homes with anything they could to keep themselves warm until Ra steered his barge back over the horizon.

He’d done some research, and it seemed that Egypt was still much the same thousands of years later – on average, in the Sahara, the temperature dropped three-point-nine degrees below freezing at night.

But still, it was different than the cold that settled over Domino during the winter.

This cold was constant. It did not abate during the day, did not melt away with the rising of the sun. It was all day, every day, for _months_. Months! Atem simply hadn’t noticed when he was sharing a body with Yugi – Yugi’s metabolism was used to making up for the cold temperatures. But when he was granted his own body again… the tables had turned. It was nice to experience something new, and he’d always found the city covered in a veil of white to be breathtakingly gorgeous, but _why was it so cold?_

Their friends laughed when Atem was bundled thickly in a parka befitting an Antarctic explorer, when he wore long underpants to keep his thighs from turning into blocks of ice, when he wore thick, fuzzy socks to keep his feet nice and toasty.

Atem would scowl quietly and subtly at Jounouchi in particular. That _maniac_ hardly ever wore more than his damn sweater in the winter. He loved his friend dearly, but something was clearly wrong with Jou’s internal thermometer.

So, Atem grew quite the appreciation for proper winter wear.

Which was why, when he forgot something in the pocket of his coat, he stopped to appreciate all the different coats hanging up in the closet. There were a lot of them, more than usual; it was Yugi’s turn to host the Christmas celebration this year, and everyone from the gang and then some had managed to make time for it. Jounouchi, for once, had been the first to arrive (probably so he could try to sneak some bites of food as the party was set up), and Honda had followed close after. Bakura arrived with Anzu, whom he had picked up from the airport. Otogi moseyed on over (he looked incredibly disappointed when Jounouchi sadly informed him that Shizuka would not be in attendance). Mokuba showed up on the doorstep just minutes before the official gathering time, and, to everyone’s surprise (save for Atem), Kaiba Seto was at his back.

Atem shook his head and forced himself to focus. What pocket was it supposed to be in, again? There were just so many of them…

So busy rifling around with his parka, he didn’t notice the falling scarf until it landed at his feet. He looked around the coat in his hands to stare. Long and blue, a dark but vivid ultramarine. He frowned. He didn’t recognize it. Letting his coat fall back into place where it was hanging from a hook, he crouched down to pick the scarf up.

His lips parted. It was… so, so soft. Smooth, thick, luxuriant material. He rubbed it between his fingers, and, automatically, lifted it to his cheek to rub gently. A scent clung to it – sharp and tense, crackling, masculine, like the scent of someone who had been out in a storm. He froze. He knew that scent.

It was Kaiba’s cologne.

He abruptly held the scarf away with a stiff arm. His cheeks were hot enough to sting his eyes. He may have feelings and attractions toward Kaiba, but that didn’t warrant nuzzling his belongings like that. He hastily stood and put the scarf with its owner’s coat, and he marched away. (He mourned internally, though. If that was Kaiba’s scarf, that probably meant it was expensive, and Atem wouldn’t be able to afford one of his own.)

“Did you find it?” Yugi asked, not even looking up when Atem entered the room, like he could just intrinsically sense his former other half’s comings and goings.

Atem blinked. Shit, he forgot all about it. “Ah, no. It must be somewhere else.”

“Oh, that sucks. I’m sure you’ll find it somewhere.”

Atem hummed and turned away to busy himself with getting a drink.

He’d look for it when all those other coats would be gone from the closet after the party.

* * *

He opened the closet. It was back to its usual capacity. He reached for his parka…

And noticed the blue scarf. There it was, on the hook where Atem had placed it after it had fallen.

Kaiba had left it behind.

Atem looked over his shoulder. Yugi seemed to be in the kitchen still.

The soft material welcomed his fingers like an old friend. It slipped, sinuous, from the hook, and Atem, almost hypnotically, brought it up to his cheek to feel it against his face. He let himself huff in the scent gratefully. Kaiba always smelled so _good_.

Atem pursed his lips.

He should make sure Kaiba gets his scarf back.

But…

He draped the material around his neck, wrapped it once and tucked it a little and flipped the ends over his shoulders. It had a comforting weight, and now he was wrapped in Kaiba’s scent, and Atem buried his face in the material to hide his blush.

… would Kaiba really miss it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, cute pining Pharaoh. Can't get enough of that. 
> 
> Atem's line of thought --> "I'm sure Kaiba has other scarves just like this, so... this one's mine now."


	8. Fit for a King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A man makes the throne, not the other way around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 8 -- Throne
> 
> Rated M for mentioned sex, established relationship. This takes place well after "5% Chance" but well before "2 AM."
> 
> Also, is this just a chapter dedicated to Seto waxing poetic about the way Atem sits? Yes, it is. I did it because I can. Thank you, enjoy

It seemed that no matter how much time he spent in the modern world in his new body, Atem would always have the air and elegance of the god-king he used to be. It lingered in how he moved his hands as he talked, how he tilted his head when regarding someone or something of interest, in the way he walked and the way he held a pen.

It was ridiculous. Seto often wondered just how Atem always managed it.

Because it extended even to the way he sat. It brought Seto to the realization that a throne could be any old chair; it was the man that made the throne, not the other way around. It could be made of pure gold or carved ivory or massive and bejeweled, but until the right person sat in it, it was simply a chair, a place for someone to rest their butt.

But _Atem_ … Atem made anything a throne.

A beat-up wicker chair in the park. When Atem draped himself upon it, chin in palm, face dappled with sunlight, vivid eyes surveying the children playing in the park… it was a throne. When Atem was leant up against the arm of the worn couch in Yugi’s living room, his hair dripping along his jaw as he tilted his head to regard the person next to him, his legs curled gracefully beneath him, that cushion, torn and stained, was a throne. When Atem was perched on a stool by the island in the kitchen, glass of water in hand, head tipped back, throat undulating as he greedily gulped down water to make up for the sweat glistening on his body, dirt darkening his rich skin in streaks, and then hand lowering, glass clinking on authentic gabbro, and he sighed, contented, it was as if suddenly the kitchen had become the Pharaoh’s high court and the god-king was presiding.

This unmentioned skill of Atem’s… Seto would be lying if he said he didn’t find it unbelievably attractive.

Atem could walk in, take up any space, and make it seemed like he _belonged_ there, like he _owned_ it, like it was his _god-given right_ to take a seat wherever he would so choose. He’d christen those areas for that brief time, like the air of a Pharaoh was one he would never shed.

Yes, it was the man that made the throne.

Sometimes, thrones didn’t have to be inanimate objects, Seto also realized.

When Atem was perched on Seto’s hips, their bodies rocking against the mattress and making it creak, he _still_ exuded that divine grace, like Seto’s body was the throne from which he would sit and reign over this world of rustling sheets and choked moans. Seto supposed that _he_ should feel like the one being serviced when they were positioned like that, but it always felt the other way around, like his body was being commanded and utilized in the best of ways. It drove him wild, really, knowing then that he was the seat of Atem’s pleasure, especially because Atem was always so very vocal with his praises and expressions of ecstasy.

However, when they were naked in the private of their bedroom was not the only time he felt as though he had become Atem’s throne.

When they were curled together to watch a film, or when Atem came to sit and read in Seto’s lap while he worked, he had the poise of belonging there. And Seto would dare say that he was the best throne that Atem had, that Atem looked best draped in his lap like the elegant Pharaoh he once was.

He thought one time, as he kissed Atem’s neck briefly after sending an email and after Atem had flipped the page in his book with a delicate turn of his wrist, that he should have it embroidered on his pants –

_A throne fit for a king._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fell behind with the prompts due to other things popping up but I'm hoping to catch up over the weekend. We'll see, I guess.


	9. Extra Passenger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Kaiba finds Atem wandering the streets of Domino in the middle of a blizzard, he gives him a ride back to the game shop. But what is Atem holding?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 9 -- Carry
> 
> Rated g, pre-relationship. This is the direct sequel to "The Pharaoh's New Clothes," so it still takes place before "Blush Tones."

The alert came in when the evening hours began to roll their way along the hands of Kaiba’s watch. “I’ll check the notification later” eventually became “Oh fuck, that notification,” and by that time the winter weather advisory for Domino City was well into effect. He spun in his chair to look out the window.

Thick fat flakes floated by the huge floor-to-ceiling windows. He was sure the sidewalk below was either already covered in a layer of white or well on its way there.

He could stay in his office – after all, he had the accommodations – but it seemed that the blizzard was supposed to hold up for the next few days. Being stranded at the manor sounded like a much more reasonable approach. He checked several reports and it seemed as though the roads were still clear enough for safe travel home.

With a huffing half-scowl, he packed up his briefcase and descended to the parking complex. The path was clear of a vast majority of his employees – even without the advisory, most of them were off by now – and the rest he gave the stern command to go home, and a follow-up question of whether they had a safe and reliable way to do so.

They did. His duty as their boss was done.

The snow twinkled and danced in the halos of the streetlights, and, as foretold, the roads were still relatively clear.

He coasted to a stop at a red light, and, glancing about, caught sight of a silhouette.

A huge parka on a small frame, thin dark-clad calves sticking out from the low edges a strange contrast to the massive winter coat. If that weren’t telling enough, the blue scarf – now gathering snow – wrapped about the person’s shoulders gave away the identity.

It was Atem.

Kaiba smirked. He was wearing it. Good.

He pulled up next to the sidewalk and rolled down the passenger-side window.

“What the hell are you doing walking around in the middle of a blizzard?!” he shouted, and Atem startled visibly, looking bewilderedly to the car pulled up next to him.

His mouth was obscured by blue material, and a thickly woven hat had Atem’s brows hidden, but Kaiba could _tell_ that they were furrowing as he parted his lips to respond, and Kaiba shook his head.

“Don’t bother. Just get in.”

Atem huffed, parka rustling, and that was when Kaiba noticed that those gloved hands were cupped and cradling a bundled bit of the scarf to his chest. He brought one hand down to the door handle, but the other remained up, and Atem opened the door as the window slid closed. He brought with him the smell of the cold and the material of that enormous parka.

“I hope you don’t mind an extra passenger,” Atem mumbled, just as shrill mewling caught Kaiba’s attention.

Atem was so cautious, as if handling fine china, as he set his bundle in his lap to buckle his seatbelt. The bundle squirmed and mewled. A tiny orange head popped out. Another mewl, tiny pink tongue, tiny white teeth. 

“A kitten,” Kaiba deadpanned.

Atem nodded hastily. “I found her. Someone left her out here in the cold,” and it was a harsh reprimand, as though the person that had done it would hear Atem’s scorn and repent for the grievous crime committed. “I couldn’t leave her out here.”

As soon as he was buckled, Kaiba was pulling back onto the main road, and he saw from the corner of his eye how Atem immediately picked the cat back up to keep her warm with the scarf and his hands.

That… wasn’t exactly how Kaiba had intended that scarf to be used, but when he heard how Atem cooed reassurances to the little creature and saw how Atem gently pressed his lips to the tiny striped head, Kaiba couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“Are you going to keep it?” Kaiba asked, quiet and low.

Atem chuckled. “I’m sure I can convince Grandpa to let me keep her.” The kitten kept mewling plaintively, and Atem shushed and cooed at her soothingly.

“She seems very small,” Kaiba remarked. “I mean, for a kitten.”

“Yes,” Atem murmured. “She’s definitely too young to be separated from her mother.” He kept cradling that little kitten close, like his heart was outside of his body and it needed to be protected. “But it’s okay – she won’t be the first kitten I had to raise.”

And Atem, with a quiet, gentle eagerness told Kaiba about the kittens at the palace, ones whose mothers had passed, and how he and Mana would raise them on goat’s milk until they were strong enough to eat and hunt on their own.

Kaiba’s lip ticked up as he imagined it – Atem strolling about the palace with a clowder of felines at his heels.

“I’m going to name her Sekhmet,” Atem concluded, firm and resolute, and Kaiba bit back that smile threatening to spill from the seam of his lips. “She is my little warrior goddess.”

No, Kaiba didn’t mind the extra passenger, not when Atem smiled so dazzlingly bright when the kitten finally settled into his chest to drift off to sleep.

It wasn’t long before Kaiba was dropping Atem back off at the game shop, and he waited until the door swung shut behind Atem’s massive parka to continue on his way home.

He wondered what Atem had been doing out in the first place before he had stumbled across that kitten, but he supposed it didn’t matter what exactly it was; the result would have always been the same. No matter how important his task, Atem would stop to aid the helpless, would drop what he was doing to get a child’s balloon out of a tree or pick a kitten up off the snow-covered sidewalks.

Atem was just that kind of guy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone always writes Atem with a soft spot for cats, but given his heritage, it's more likely than not to be accurate. But, anyways, this is how Atem got Sekhmet, whom I know I managed to fit in in at least 1 chapter so far (besides this one). She'll get mentioned more later on. 
> 
> (Also, yes, Kaiba left the scarf behind on purpose lmao)


	10. Red in Tooth and Claw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaiba comes to pick up something Mokuba had left behind. Atem is already occupied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 10 -- TV
> 
> Rated T, pre-relationship. Takes place directly between "Black Kiss" and "The Pharaoh's New Clothes."
> 
> Am I using this drabble collection as an excuse to write all of my headcanons? Yes. Yes I am.

He was slicked with sweat and dirt. The shovel hissed rhythmically with each shove into the rich dark earth. When the hole was just the right size, he stabbed the shovel into the ground next to him and turned to grab the sapling by its trunk. With a strained grunt, he lifted it up and hefted it into the hole.

A pause, his head hanging down between his arms. His breath heaved in and out, and he rubbed a gloved hand on his chest.

“Fuck.”

Once he caught his breath and once his heart stopped pounding, he straightened to adjust the sapling to be almost perfectly upright.

“I hope you’ll like your new home,” he whispered, crouching down to fill in the rest of the hole and place mulch around the tree’s base. “I picked it just for you.”

When he was done, he sat back. Looked up at the sapling. It rustled in the late summer breeze.

He sighed. Maybe he overdid it today.

Perhaps he would just relax when he got home.

* * *

“Do you want to come in?” Yugi asked. “I don’t know where Mokuba left it. I wouldn’t want you to just wait around out here. Or would you rather come back after I find it?”

Kaiba took a deep breath, resisted the urge to sigh and roll his eyes. “I’ll come in.”

He didn’t want to have to come back. It’s not like… there was someone in there that he wanted to see or anything. Nothing like that.

When Yugi led him into the house part of the game shop, and he saw Atem sitting on the couch, looking like he was already in his pajamas, Kaiba really couldn’t deny it, not even to himself.

He definitely wanted to see Atem.

But Atem didn’t seem to be paying the slightest bit of attention. His gaze was affixed to the screen, eyes rounded and large, his fingers curling into his pants absentmindedly.

Kaiba looked to the television. A lizard was climbing up a tree trunk, and one of those narrators with a stately, calm voice described the scene in detail.

Yugi chuckled. “Yeah, he’s kinda hooked on nature documentaries.”

On the screen, the lizard encountered another of its species, and a territorial dispute broke out, dramatic music and all.

Kaiba wrinkled his nose. Those lizards couldn’t be more than fifteen centimeters. A battle between the two wouldn’t be all that exciting to watch.

… However, Atem did not seem to be of the same mind. He gasped, lurching forward. “Yugi, look! They have… little flags on their necks!”

Yugi laughed, shook his head, and left the room. “I’ll try to find it as soon as I can! Feel free to take a seat.”

Kaiba hummed, grimaced down at that beat-up couch.

Well, if Atem could stomach it… Kaiba could, too.

It basically swallowed him when he sat down, like there was a hole worn by time right in the center of the cushion. He scowled. It was going to be a pain in the ass trying to get back up.

Atem turned his head to look at his new neighbor. He smiled, bright and dazzling. “Hello, Kaiba.”

Kaiba nodded in greeting.

It didn’t matter if he wanted to say anything back, anyways, because Atem’s attention was back to the two small lizards doing push-ups to try to intimidate one another on the tree trunk. “They are so strange!” Atem breathed. “Though I understand that they would do anything to avoid personal injury.”

Although, it seemed that the small contest wasn’t enough: the larger lizard made chase, and the two raced up the tree, towards the canopy. The smaller darted off, onto a branch, but it was quickly running out of bark. The larger was closing in, closer and closer, and the smaller looked back, then forward again.

And leapt.

Atem gasped, hand smacking down on Kaiba’s knee, as the little reptile fell through the air, and, in slow motion, its flaps of skin spread out to catch air. The lizard glided to the forest floor and landed, unscathed, in the undergrowth.

“It can fly!” Atem exclaimed, almost thrumming with excitement in his seat, his fingers tightening around Kaiba’s knee. “How wondrous! What an amazing little lizard.”

He snapped his head back up, looking to Kaiba’s face.

Kaiba couldn’t help the small smile he gave in return.

When Atem got like that… it was admittedly infectious. This excitement, this unadulterated awe for the natural world around him. Like a child, almost.

“It’s like a dragon,” Atem continued, nudging Kaiba gently in the side with an elbow. When his shoulder also bumped into Kaiba’s upper arm, Kaiba realized just then how _close_ they were.

Thankfully, the dim lighting in the room wouldn’t show how bright and hot his blush was getting.

“I found it!” Yugi bellowed down the hall, and soon he was there, in the living room, and an inexplicable shot of adrenaline had Kaiba practically leaping up from his seat.

Atem’s hand fell away.

“I’ll be sure to get this to Mokuba,” Kaiba said, clearing his throat as he accepted his little brother’s sweater.

As he walked out, his cheeks were still hot, too hot for him to look back at Atem, sitting on the couch, staring at his own hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kaiba: OH MY GAWD HE TOUCHED ME
> 
> Atem: OH MY GAWD I TOUCHED HIM
> 
> And that's it. That's the story, folks. Jk, jk, we got a lot of stuff I want to cover.


	11. Bless This Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mokuba and Atem rope Seto into decorating stockings with them. He ends up enjoying himself and the final products.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 11 -- Stocking
> 
> Rated T, established relationship. This takes place sometime between "Fit for a King" and "2 AM." It's basically just a bunch of tooth-rottingly sweet fluff Prideshipping style.

“Why are we doing this again?” Seto sighed, arms crossed, as he surveyed the table. Three giant bright red foot-shaped pieces of fabric rested on the glassy surface. The top edges of the stockings were lined with a rough faux-fur sort of material.

Atem was enthusiastically digging his fingers into the plastic packaging… of a glitter glue set. Seto groaned.

No, not glitter. The herpes of the art world. The janitorial staff would _never_ manage to clean all that shit out, Seto could already foretell.

“Apparently, it’s a fun thing they do in America!” Mokuba chirped, lifting his stocking for Seto to view. “They decorate these giant socks and stuff them with gifts.”

Seto clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth in distaste, but Atem was already rolling up his sleeves and twisting the cap on a small bottle of gold glitter glue. (Seto tried and failed at not ogling those defined forearms.)

“What are you gonna do for yours, Atem?” Mokuba asked, pouting thoughtfully over the remaining bottles.

Atem only hummed, already focused in on his task, his eyes narrowed, one hand steadying the other wrist.

Seto frowned at him. “You should probably put on your glasses.”

A hum.

“Whatever. I don’t want to hear you bitching about a headache later.”

A hum, perhaps a little longer this time.

“What do you want to do on yours, Seto?” Mokuba asked, looking up. They were both sitting down, but Seto remained standing behind the chair obviously designated as his decorating station.

Seto crossed his arms. “I’m not decorating one.”

Puppy-dog eyes, puppy-dog eyes that Mokuba was getting _way_ too old for. “But we bought you one…”

“So?” Seto gestured to the fabric with one long hand. “It couldn’t have been too expensive. They look very cheap.”

Finally, Atem piped up, though he didn’t look away from whatever he was doing with the gold glitter glue, “Seto doesn’t want to do one because he knows he doesn’t have an artistic bone in his body. Just look at the way he dresses.”

Seto bared his teeth to snap a reply, his head rearing back, when Mokuba’s quiet murmur caught his attention.

“I thought we could do them all and hang them up together. Like a family,” he wasn’t looking at Seto now, instead hunched over his stocking as he fiddled with a bottle of glue. “I’m leaving for college next year, and… and things won’t really be the same anymore.”

Seto felt his throat clench suddenly, painfully. He set a hand on his brother’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “We’ll always be a family, Mokuba.”

Mokuba inhaled deeply, shuddering a little, and Seto drew away to slowly pull back the chair and settle into it.

“Okay, what the hell am I supposed to do?”

Atem, who had been eying the scene with that empathetic stare he could always pull off with a strange sort of solemn grace, nodded down to the long scrap of red fabric in front of Seto. “You put your name on the white part—”

“Why?” Seto immediately asked. “We should all know which is whose.”

Atem rolled his eyes. “Traditionally, it’s for Santa to know which belongs to whom—”

“You’re a little old to believe in Santa, Atem.”

“—but we’re doing just because,” Atem finished.

Seto opened his mouth to continue “being difficult” as Atem called it when Atem gave him a glare so fierce Seto immediately closed his jaws with an audible _click_.

“Then you decorate the red part however you want,” Atem added, and as soon as he was finished, he dropped his head back down to focus on his work.

Seto huffed his breath through his nose. No artistic bone in his body…? He’d show Atem. He’d decorate his stocking so well it would blow Atem’s out of the water.

* * *

“Done!” Mokuba said, swiping his hands together as if to wipe dust off them.

Seto leaned over. It was rather detailed line art of an orange cat.

“It’s Sekhmet,” Mokuba continued, as if it weren’t obvious.

“What’re those?” Seto asked, gesturing to the objects surrounding the glittery cat.

“The Christmas ornaments she knocked off the tree,” Mokuba answered with a snicker.

A bubble of frustration rose in Seto’s chest just at the mention of it. The one year they do Christmas decorations was the year they had a fucking feline menace in the manor. That damn cat.

Seto was close to finishing his, and he added the last touches with a smirk. See if Atem can top _that_.

Black boots rested toward the bottom. A massive silver dragon took up the rest. From its teeth, a white-tufted hat hung.

Take that, Santa.

He lifted it up to show Mokuba, who clasped a hand over his mouth to hold in his maniacal cackles. Seto’s smirk grew.

He looked over to Atem.

Atem was still hunched over his work, hand moving smoothly. He’d been hogging the gold glue the entire time. The bastard. Finally, he slowly sat up straight and admired his work with a satisfied nod.

“Lemme see!” Mokuba all but cried, and he dashed around the table to take a look. “Wow! That’s really cool! What does it say?”

Seto craned over the table to see it.

It was covered in hieroglyphs. The gold figures stood out radiantly from the red background in firm lines, and they took up almost the entire stocking. The white was marked with only a few characters, undoubtedly spelling Atem’s name.

Atem lifted a shoulder, but a small, soft smile was on his lips. He never answered.

Later, they were watching a movie in the family room, the stockings hung up on the usable-but-mostly-decorative hearth. Atem and Seto were, as customary, sitting together, Atem leaning against Seto’s side, Seto’s arm draped along the back of the couch.

Atem momentarily unlocked his phone. Periodically, he had been texting someone. Seto’s eyes flicked down. It was probably Yugi.

And while he very much tried to always respect Atem’s privacy, sometimes his eyes couldn’t help himself, and he couldn’t unsee what he sometimes saw.

 **Aibou** : It’s super cool! What does it say?

 **Atem:** It’s a prayer.

Atem paused for a moment, and then he continued typing.

 **Atem** : I asked the gods to bless our family.

Seto tore his eyes away, stared up at the flickering television screen sightlessly.

His throat felt tight, and his eyes stung, but nothing became of it, and eventually Atem put his phone away and rested his head on Seto’s chest. Seto let his arm fall from the back of the couch, let it drape across Atem’s back.

Atem hummed appreciatively.

Dammit. Seto liked Atem’s stocking much, much better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seto: THE IDEA OF GODS IS COMPLETE HOOEY BUT I LIKE THE SENTIMENT *pretends that he isn't sniffling*


	12. What We Do for Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jou thinks Atem deserves happiness, and if Kaiba makes Atem happy, then Jou's gonna make damn sure he gets him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 12 -- Possessive
> 
> Rated T. This is technically still pre-relationship even though it is set a couple months after "5% Chance" (though it is not the chronological sequel) because guys are dumb. (Well, Kaiba is emotionally constipated and Atem doesn't want to push him away by pushing his boundaries, but altogether they are both dumb.)
> 
> AKA the one where Jou uses his big mouth for the good of society.

A lot of people said that Jounouchi was a little on the daft side, and, when he was in a more amicable mood, Jounouchi was inclined to agree. He wasn’t the best at math, or at strategy, or at grasping the more complex scientific theories, or at understanding the more nuanced aspects of literature (like poetry, blech). But there were areas where Jou believed himself to be adequately skilled.

One of these areas included people.

Maybe it was from growing up in a generally tense situation where any misread facial expression would blow up in his face either figuratively or painfully literally, but he liked to think that he had a developing skill for reading people, especially those with whom he spent much time.

Atem, one of his best friends, just so happened to fall into that category.

Jou had known for some time that Atem had more than a little interest in a certain Kaiba Seto (weird tastes, but Jou was learning not to judge things like that). Even if Atem’s mooning over the man in question weren’t obvious enough, Atem’s explicit confession to his closest friends was more than enough to drive the idea home.

And Jou was rooting for him. He really was. Because Jou adamantly believed that Atem deserved everything he wanted in life, and anyone who disagreed would get a swift tap on the jaw from Jou’s fist. So, if Atem wanted Kaiba that badly, then he damn well deserved Kaiba.

He immediately knew that something was up between the two after that one Duel at the manor. Atem’s behavior had changed drastically. Content, jovial, dare Jou say _giggly_ , and it remained that way for several weeks. Several weeks of Atem and Kaiba conveniently disappearing at the same time, only for one to show up later with tousled hair and rosy cheeks and swollen lips.

Atem was bright and happy. He was acting like a schoolboy with a secret admirer, and Jou soon realized why…

… Atem never got to experience this before. He was once a child prince thrust into the role of a god-king, and he sacrificed his own life soon afterwards, then spent _thousands of years_ in a goddamn puzzle box until Yugi released them. For some time, he believed he actually _was_ Yugi, and then figured out he wasn’t, just some amnesiac spirit sharing the same body. And then went through endless trials and tribulations (not that he could ever enjoy being a teenager anyway, since it was Yugi’s life and not his own), and then died. Again.

Some greater power decided that finally, _finally_ Atem deserved some goddamn mercy and understanding and was granted a second chance at life.

So yeah, long story short, it made sense that Atem was acting the way he was over Kaiba. Young love, Jou had thought with a sort of irony. Atem seemed happy getting anything he could from Kaiba, because anything was infinitely more than the absolute nothingness he’d been dealing with for the past – what, three millennia…?

But that changed. Slowly, gradually, like colors fading out to white. That ecstatic joy evolved slowly into something else; a quiet pensiveness, concealed hurt and longing.

Everyone who knew about it (though Atem told no one besides Yugi and Yugi told no one, but Atem’s moods were just all too easy to read to those who knew him) knew that Atem was… unhappy. Something just wasn’t adding up for him like it should have been.

Atem wanted more. He didn’t seem like the secret relationship type, nor did he seem like the no-strings-attached type, and he certainly didn’t seem to want either of those things with Kaiba.

And what the hell? Jou had thought. What the hell, Kaiba? What are you _doing_?

Because Kaiba seemed just as into Atem as Atem was into Kaiba (if the years of obsession on Kaiba’s part weren’t clear enough on that). What was the hold-up, then?

Jou didn’t know, and Jou didn’t care. Because if neither of them was going to do something about it, then Jou sure as hell would.

* * *

The bell to the shop rang, and Jou looked over his shoulder from where he was leaning on his elbows over the front counter. Yugi looked up from where he was rifling through a box by the register.

Kaiba Seto stood in the doorway, his long jacket fluttering in the crisp autumn breeze sweeping in from outside. He took one step in, the heel of his polished shoe clicking on the tile.

“Hello, Kaiba,” Yugi chirped with an energetic wave. “Atem isn’t here right now.”

Kaiba immediately bristled. Too bad his jacket wasn’t padded – Jou imagined those ridiculous shoulder pads standing up like the hair on the nape of a dog’s neck. The reaction was reasonable, Jou figured, since it was the first time that someone had verbally acknowledged Atem and Kaiba’s relationship to Kaiba’s face.

Yugi continued on, though, as he turned to back to his box, “He took an extra day at work to help with some big project the Botanical Gardens has going on. Major transplantation or something like that.”

Kaiba grunted in response, still tense, though Yugi didn’t seem to notice anymore, as he sighed heavily at the box, like it was a conundrum he just couldn’t solve. “Maybe I should just store these in the back for now…” he muttered to himself, and, as if Jou and Kaiba weren’t there, he hefted that box up and carried it to the doorway to the back.

Jou and Kaiba were alone now in the awkward silence.

Jou hid his grin.

Perfect.

“He really likes working there,” Jou muttered, almost ponderously, and he tilted his head up to pretend to inspect the ceiling tiles. He could feel those steely eyes boring holes into the back of his neck. “Atem’s a really hard worker.”

Silence.

Jou bit his lip for a moment before he continued. “It’s kind of attractive, actually. Ya know, that determination to do something and do it well.” He huffed a laughed. “There’s a lot of attractive things about ‘Tem, though.” He could almost _hear_ Kaiba’s increasing tension. He tried not to cackle. “He’s just… smoking hot, y’know? Kinda just _radiates_ sexiness.” He thrummed his fingers on the counter. “Been thinking about making my move on him. Liked him for a long time.”

As predicted, it didn’t take much for Kaiba to _snap_ like a dry twig. “You wouldn’t have the _guts_ , mutt,” Kaiba growled, one step forward.

“To what? Ask him out? Why not? I mean, he’s single, he’s smart, he’s hot.” Jou counted the traits off on his fingers in a slow kind of dramatic.

Kaiba was stalking closer. “ _Single_?”

“Yeah, man. All the signs say he’s not in a _committed_ relationship right now, so seems to me like he’s on the market,” Jou continued, droll and a little cruel.

And Kaiba was upon him, and those long fingers struck like a biting cobra and wrapped in the back of Jou’s jacket. Between one moment and the next, he found his back pressing painfully into the shelves. Merchandise rattled.

“You wouldn’t fucking _dare_ ,” Kaiba hissed, and his eyes were alight with a fury so hot and feral that Jou felt for a moment that _maybe_ he had bitten off more than he can chew.

“I don’t know, man,” Jou said back, meeting those eyes, unwavering. “I feel like Atem deserves someone who’s willing to put in the time and effort. He deserves more than to be used as someone’s fucktoy.”

Kaiba’s jaws were gritting so hard Jou swore that some molars would probably crack. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, moron.”

Jou had a reply right on the tip of his tongue, but a sharp cry of “Hey!” caught their attention, and Kaiba suddenly dropped Jou onto his feet.

Yugi stood in the threshold, that stern kind of anger in the set of his brow and the line of his mouth. But Kaiba had no apology, no response, because he was storming out of the shop with all the fury and melodrama of his teen years.

“What the hell did you do?” Yugi asked, folding his arms, looking ready to pull out a wooden spatula to beat Jou with it like an angry grandmother would.

Jou grinned cheerfully, holding his thumbs up. “I just did Atem a favor, thank you very much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do plan on having a chapter that shows how they actually _officially_ get together but I guess you have to wait to read it <3 It's not until much later in the month. 
> 
> PS: I think this is the only chapter so far where Atem isn't physically present...? I might be wrong because I have the memory of a very drunk goldfish.


	13. Sweet Everythings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atem leaves Seto sticky notes. Until he doesn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 13 -- Letter
> 
> Rated T, established relationship. This is set _after_ "Bless This Family" but still _before_ "2 AM."  
> Also, if you guys don't like these two being sappy fuckers in their own ways, you came to the wrong damn place!

They were silly little things. Seto wondered where Atem found them. What kind of office supply store would have these? Did he order them online? One could find anything online, so that seemed like the most probable action. Well, no matter how they came into Atem’s possession, they had become a part of Kaiba’s life.

They were tiny scraps of paper with a strip of adhesive on one side. Not too special when described in that manner, since every office in the world probably had an unreasonable supply of sticky notes. But these were, well, quirky, in that they were shaped like hands. In fact, they looked like cartoon gloves, the sort worn by several famous and beloved characters featured in themed amusement parks. The outline varied sometimes – some had blue borders, others red or yellow. Did they come on the same pad? Was each one in the pad different, so that the order of colors formed a pattern? Or did Atem just have several pads of the notes, so that he could have differently colored one whenever he deemed it was necessary?

Seto didn’t know. He never managed to catch Atem writing on them, placing them, or even having them on his person.

But he _knew_ it was Atem. Two things gave him away: one, the writing was always in swirling, elegant cursive English, which Atem became obsessed with the moment he learned of its existence promptly set himself forth to master, and two, the content of the notes.

Surely it wasn’t Mokuba (who was at college) or one of the staff leaving notes in loopy script that said _You’re one sexy bastard_ followed by a rather attractively drawn heart.

He saw them everywhere for weeks. On their bathroom mirror in the morning ( _Ugh, look at that face. Gorgeous_. Kissy face). Inside his briefcase, stuck to the file on top ( _Have a good day at work, Seto_. Kissy face). On the coffee machine when he came home from work ( _Out in the gardens._ Kissy face). On the monitor to the computer in his home office ( _Don’t work too hard. I love you_. Kissy face).

Every time he found one, he would sigh heavily and roll his eyes, but he never had the heart to throw them away. He had a growing collection of sticky notes in a locked box in his office and he would strangle anyone who dared to find them.

But one day, the notes just… stopped.

Atem was one of the few people who managed to get up before Seto did, so it was not unusual for Seto to wake up in the morning alone (not too long after Atem, though Seto wouldn’t admit that he now had trouble sleeping without his partner next to him). When he trudged into the bathroom, his eyes immediately sought out the little hand-shaped note on the mirror. There was none. He frowned. Whatever.

Normally, there was one somewhere in the living or kitchen in the morning. No matter where Seto looked, it was note-free. He picked up his briefcase on the way out and paused by his desk. His sigh made his locket thump against his sternum. Quick, decisive, he set the briefcase on the desktop and threw it open. Not on the top file, or the one below that, not tucked between pages. Nowhere, nothing.

He didn’t notice the little growl that rattled between his teeth. Whatever. Good riddance.

He, as he did most mornings that Atem did not have to head to work early, hunted the man down to give him a peck on the cheek before he left. (And it was often anybody’s guess just where Atem could be, as he was quite fond of wandering around the manor or the grounds.)

Atem beamed at him, presented his cheek happily, and after Seto had pulled away, leaned up to press his lips to Seto’s cleanly shaven cheek. “Have a good day, Seto. I love you.”

Seto didn’t reply – he usually didn’t, but his hand skimmed down Atem’s arm, so gentle and slow, and then he was on his way.

Atem didn’t seem any different today.

Maybe there would be more notes later.

The workday came and went, and then Seto was back home. Despite his futile search, no new notes appeared in the kitchen or living room, nor did he find any in his office.

Then Atem came home, still smelling of sweat and dirt, and Seto caught his wrist before Atem could slither away to shower.

Atem looked up at him, his brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

Seto tried to ignore the melty, fluttery feeling in his limbs (as he always did when Atem was fresh from work or from digging around in the manor gardens) and searched those vivid crimson eyes, only to be met with confusion and concern.

“Are you displeased with me?” Seto asked, quiet.

Atem’s brows knotted tighter. His hand came to rest over Seto’s. It was rough from manual labor. “No, no, why would you think that?”

Seto didn’t notice it, but he immediately deflated and sulked like a child. “You didn’t leave any notes for me today.”

Atem sank with relief. “Oh, Seto.” He reached up, his warm hand cupping Seto’s cheek, and he brought him down for a brief, chaste kiss. “No, I just ran out of sticky notes,” and he laughed lightly against Seto’s lips. His thumb rubbed so gently, so tenderly, so lovingly across Seto’s cheekbone. And like always, the touch had Seto crumbling into a puddle of contented, purring ooze. “I figured they probably annoyed you, anyways.”

Seto hummed, released Atem’s arm. “Go shower before I do something unseemly right here and now.”

Another laugh, this time low and sultry, and Atem pressed his thumb sensually into Seto’s bottom lip. “Maybe you should join me.” He nibbled lightly with his next kiss, and his hand slid back to thread and tug teasingly at Seto’s hair. “I’m so very dirty. I need help washing.”

Seto groaned, rattling in this throat and his chest. “Gladly.”

* * *

It took some time, but Seto managed to find the very same kind of notepad online. Each pad was a different color, which explained why Atem managed to leave notes for so long; he’d had multiples, but each a different color.

He bought one of every color available.

* * *

Atem was curled up on the couch, Sekhmet on his lap, watching another of his nature documentaries with rapt attention. Seto tossed the package next to him. It bounced on the cushion but managed not to fall on the floor. Atem startled visibly.

“What’s this?”

Seto walked away.

* * *

He looked at the mirror. The note was there, resting against its own reflection. A white glove with a baby blue border.

_Good morning, handsome. I adore you._

It was signed with a gorgeous “A,” followed by a heart.

A small smile. Seto delicately plucked the note from its resting space. It was definitely going into the box.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I do find them annoying but that doesn't mean you should stop!" <\--- Seto's dumb ass.


	14. New Look

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atem finds out he needs to get reading glasses. Seto experiences technical difficulties.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 14 -- Glasses. 
> 
> Rated T, established relationship. This is set quite a while after "What We Do for Friends" and right before "Fit for a King."

“Yugi gave me some of the new booster packs that came in today,” Atem said, appearing seemingly from nowhere. He pulled up a chair to the other side of Seto’s home office desk. The minute his butt touched the leather-cased cushion, Sekhmet was on his lap, rubbing up against him and leaving her tiny little pale orange hairs on his black shirt.

Seto stared at her. He tried to keep the door closed so she didn’t come into his office. She would _always_ curl up on his lap while he was trying to work. It was distracting. (Not that he spent the whole time petting her or anything. That certainly wasn’t how that happened.)

He lifted his eyes to Atem, who was enthusiastically tearing into the metallic wrapper.

“Does Yugi always give away merchandise?” Seto asked, a quiet drawl as he went back to typing.

“Hm, no,” Atem laughed, “Sekhmet, just a minute,” as she was continuously trying to butt her head into his occupied hands. He off-handedly tossed the wrapper onto the floor (Seto scowled). The tabby immediately jumped down to bat it around. “I’ll pick it up, I promise. Just something to keep her occupied.”

Seto nodded. He better.

“No, this technically wasn’t free,” Atem continued. “Jou and I don’t get actual pay when we help Yugi around the shop, so he just gives us first picks when the new booster packs come out.”

Seto hummed. Understandable.

Atem fanned the cards out on the desk, and Seto didn’t hide his curiosity in seeing them.

Atem picked a card up, practically held it up at arm’s length to read it.

Seto’s brows furrowed.

He’d noticed this for a while, but in the past months it had been getting particularly glaring.

“Atem.”

Atem looked up, smiling softly, sweetly, and Seto wanted to just squeeze the shit out of him. Bad Pharaoh. Stop being cute. “Seto.”

“Have you been having a hard time reading?” Seto asked, figuring it was better than beating around the damn bush.

Atem immediately frowned. “No.” He went back to reading the cards, still held far from his face, his eyes narrowed, squinted, until only a sliver of red peeked between his long lashes.

Seto snorted. “Sure. You’re squinting like you’re staring at the sun because your eyesight is just _perfect_ , right? I’m sure you are holding that card about half a mile from your face for purely aesthetic reasons, too.”

Atem pouted.

“You should get an optometry appointment.” Seto used one long index finger to drag a card closer to himself. “Mokuba and I get our eyes checked every year.”

“You don’t wear glasses. Or contacts,” Atem sighed, leaning his elbow on the desk and putting his chin in his palm.

“Nope. Twenty-twenty vision right here. Mokuba had to have reading glasses for a year or two when he was younger, but he seemed to grow out of that.” It happened sometimes. The shape of the eye could change during development, after all. Seto chuckled again, smirking over at Atem. “I doubt you’ll grow out of it, though.”

That fierce, proud expression. “ _If_ I need them.”

“You’ll need them. Just face it. It’ll make everything easier.”

“Okay, Mr. Denial.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“We both know what it’s supposed to mean.”

“Whatever.”

“You’re just mad that I’m right.”

“I said _whatever_ , four-eyes.”

“I might not even need glasses!”

“You definitely need glasses.”

“You can’t know that! You’re not a doctor, nor an optometrist.”

“Whatever you say, four-eyes.”

“Kaiba Seto!”

* * *

“I told you so,” Seto said smugly, almost sing-song when Atem was brought back with a prescription that told him he would, in fact, need reading glasses.

“Shut up and help me pick out some frames,” Atem muttered, rolling his eyes, though his lips were curved into a fond smile.

“I already have,” Seto replied, leading Atem to a small counter in the lobby where he had several frames lined up. “I thought these would look good on you.” He lifted a shoulder. “ _If_ you chose glasses over contacts. Which I’m surprised you didn’t.”

Atem shook his head slowly, his pretty red eyes comically wide. “I do not like the thought of something touching my eyeballs.” He shuddered. “Just… doesn’t seem natural.”

All the frames Seto picked were simple blacks or dark browns. Atem pursed his lips down at them. “They’re rather boring.”

Seto rolled his eyes and sighed. “I knew you would probably want a very flashy pair, but I think…” He paused then, inhaling deeply. “… They would detract from your eyes.”

He knew he’d complimented Atem on them before – the sharpness of their shape; the vivid red rippled through with the occasional vein of purple; the lush thickness of his dark, long lashes. Atem had gorgeous eyes, and it would be a travesty if they were lost in the noise of some flashy frames.

Atem smiled up at him, chest puffed. He was obviously preening. “I suppose you’re right.” He delicately plucked up the first pair. “Well, I guess I should try them on.”

The first pair he settled delicately on his nose, and he blinked at Seto owlishly through the fake lenses.

Seto could only stare for a moment.

Damn him.

Cheeks growing hot, Seto shook his head. “Too boxy.”

Atem gave a slight nod, folded them up, and set them to the side. They cycled through them, and Seto felt like his brain was slowly leaking through his ears. He suddenly regretted putting them in order the way he did, from least favorite to most, because now it was gearing up that hot, shaky feeling that seemed to be slithering into every finger and toe through his fluttering blood vessels.

What the actual _fuck_?

 _How_? How the _fuck_ did Atem make everything look so damn _good_?

Atem had an elegant face, and, at rest, it gave off a solemn sternness, like a pharaoh regarding his kingdom from a gleaming limestone balcony. Majestic, stolid – at least, until he emoted, and then his face expressed his feelings so beautifully, with a sort of innate poeticism, and every single bit of it was enthralling.

And it seemed that glasses just _suited him_ , like so many things do. They brought attention to those captivating eyes and somehow to those shapely, sculpted lips, too.

Atem finally slipped on the last pair, and suddenly all Seto’s gears ground to a screeching halt.

Again, the frame was a simple black, but these were different from the others in that the lenses were less wide vertically, instead long horizontal rectangles with rounded corners, and the top edges of the lenses were bare, without that top black frame. Atem chuckled softly as he regarded Seto. “These are a little different,” and he tipped his chin down, his eyes cutting up above those bare top edges, and his eyebrows waggled.

Abort. Abort mission. Seto had to disengage before he made an even bigger fool of himself (because he _knew_ he had been staring like a creep for a majority of the time that Atem has been trying on glasses), before he blurted whatever nonsense was bubbling up, hot and sweet and panting, in his chest.

“Get whatever one you like best,” Seto said, and in trying to keep himself from choking it all out, he ended up growling the words lowly as he stalked away.

Seto should have just let him continue squinting at Duel Monsters cards for the rest of his life, because he wasn’t sure he would be able to survive dealing with Atem on a daily basis.

He felt this doubly when he learned that Atem picked that last pair.

_Fuck. I’m screwed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kaiba and I both have a kink for Hot Librarian!Atem and I am not ashamed (Kaiba might be, though).
> 
> I thought about adding a smutty part to this, but I liked where it left off, so I didn't. There WILL be chapters with smut, though, just a warning.


	15. Growing Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When everything has been hectic and they've barely spent any time together, Seto finds a moment to do something meaningful with Atem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 15 -- Plant
> 
> Rated T, established relationship. _Finally_ we have a chapter that is set _after_ "2 AM." But it isn't chronologically the last one! Because I still have 16 prompts to fill all the little spaces that you guys have yet to see. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this one.

Kaiba Seto was no stranger to busy days. Planning tournaments often included much stressing, several people running around like chickens with their heads cut off, and trying to get several tasks done in a single hour to make sure everything was on the path to being ready on time. The same thing could be said of releasing new products – especially when it was cutting-edge technology – or preparing for mergers or takeovers (for which KaibaCorp was notorious).

But this was a different flavor of busy. Instead of late-night coffee and rushed lunches, this was cake tasting and flower sniffing and color inspecting. Weddings were a whole new ball game, and Seto was planning on this being the first and last one of which he would personally take part. Sure, he would love to foot the bill whenever Mokuba decided he was ready to tie the knot, but there was no earthly way that he would get involved with the planning.

There was one thing – one _person_ – that he kept in mind to prevent himself from saying _fuck it_ and cancelling the whole thing.

Atem.

He’d do anything for Atem.

Atem was the only one now that could soothe his stress with their hectic days. Seto swore that the only time they saw each other anymore was to confirm plans or to crash into bed, exhausted, next to each other. He hated being this busy, and he hated it even more when Atem had just as much to do in the day that kept him away from his soon-to-be husband.

Of course, they couldn’t _legally_ get married – Seto was getting more and more determined to run for public office so he could _fucking do something about it_ because this was bullshit – but the symbolism of it all still stood.

Tied together, for the rest of their lives, and beyond (because how could what they have simply stop after they both die? It couldn’t. Seto refused to accept that).

Because this thing they had between them, it had started as a tiny sprout freshly germinated from harsh soil, and now it had grown so large. Its roots and its branches had invaded every part of Seto’s life and every part of his being, and he wanted it to stay forever, to devote the rest of his life to nurturing this love they shared. It was stronger than blood shed from trauma, stronger than any piece of paper they would ever have to sign to prove to any feeble government that they wanted one another for eternity.

And he missed Atem. Fuck, he missed Atem. Ironic that trying to bring them closer together was holding them apart. It tempted Seto with the idea of eloping, because fuck ceremonies if they were going to be this much hassle. (But, again, eloping was pointless because there wasn’t even any paperwork to do to make their union legal.)

But he planned something else alongside preparing for their wedding. A day when neither of them worked, and a day that he had made sure to keep free of any other appointments. They were going to do something together that day, Seto swore.

And they did.

* * *

Seto begrudgingly pried Atem off his body. He was warm and smelled so damn _good_ and Seto would _love_ to cuddle all day (they were both so damn touch-starved), but he had plans for the two of them.

“You should get into clothes you wouldn’t mind getting dirty,” Seto said, struggling to keep Atem at arm’s length (and thank god Atem’s arms were shorter than his, because those hands seemed perfectly determined to crawl under his shirt and he wasn’t sure he had the strength to stop them).

“Oh?” And Atem waggled his eyebrow and licked his lips sensually.

“Not… like that,” Seto groaned, trying to take a step back, but Atem advanced on him.

“Like how, then?” Still, he was purring and sibilant and seductive, and stalking after Seto like a panther on the prowl.

Oh, sweet Jesus, Seto wanted to get pounced on like he wanted nothing else in his entire goddamn life, but… “We’re going to do some work together outside.”

Atem hummed then, pausing, and his head tilting. Seto took the opportunity to get a little more space between them. “I thought… today was a work-free day?”

“I promise you’ll like it, Atem,” he breathed, as sincere as he could be.

Just as quickly as it had disappeared, _that look was back_ , all lean and hungry and greedy. “Let’s have a little fun first, Seto. We haven’t gotten to touch each other in so long.” He reached for Seto again.

Seto practically vaulted himself over the bed to get to the other side. “No! We’ll just end up in bed all day.”

“I don’t know why you’re making it sound so bad,” Atem said, growling a little, and he was crawling across the bed now. His shoulders were rocking. Ugh, fuck.

Fuck, fuck, never had Seto felt so in danger in his own damn house. Atem looked like he wanted to eat him. Very, very hot and very, _very_ tempting.

“Look, we can do what I had planned, and then we can come in, take a shower—”

“Together?”

“Yes, together – and _then_ we can spend the rest of the day in bed.”

Atem regarded him silently with those beautiful eyes for a long moment, and then he gave a single resolute nod. “Deal.”

* * *

Thankfully, Atem kept his hands to himself as they wandered out to the sprawling grounds of Kaiba Manor (even though he looked positively _ravenous_ when he saw the old white wife-beater Seto had donned for their endeavor).

Right in the courtyard, set on the bricks, was a potted plant. A sapling, its waxy green leaves fluttering in the wind.

Atem paused, then reached forward, his long fingers caressing one of the leaves. “A crabapple tree?” He looked over his shoulder, his hair brushing his cheek. “Why?”

Seto gathered the tools he had asked groundskeepers to leave for him. A shovel, a few other things to help them pull up bricks. “Well, I know they’re one of your favorites.” He handed Atem a shovel. “And they’re one of mine, too.”

“They are?” Atem breathed, and he blinked up in wonder, like he was seeing Seto for the very first time.

Seto sighed a moment, leaned his elbow on the handle of the shovel. “Do you remember – fuck, it feels like forever now – that one spring? Your work was throwing that annual spring gala, and you—”

“—I was a tour guide,” Atem finished. “That was when you first found out where I worked, right?”

Seto smiled, a small, private smile. Atem returned it. “Yes, it was. Well, all the sakura and crabapple trees were in bloom, and I just remember thinking… how _at home_ you were there. With all the petals falling around you. Like you belonged there. In the springtime. Forever. You looked like the king of some magical flowering oasis.”

Atem’s lips parted, his face darkening and reddening with a blush, but he didn’t once break eye contact.

“I found I really like crabapple trees,” Seto said with a wry smile. “They have a wonderful aroma when they bloom, too.” He gestured to the sapling before them. “I decided I wanted to plant one somewhere on the grounds. And I thought here would be best.”

“Where we had that Duel…” Atem said, so quiet and low, almost like a whisper.

“Yes. We’ll dig up the bricks they have here and plant the tree. I’ll hire some landscapers later to rebrick everything so that the tree has its own area to grow.” Seto reached forward, gently took Atem’s hand in his own. “And then we can watch it grow. And every year we’ve been married, we’ll know that this tree is another year older, that it’s grown more and more. And we can come out here and enjoy the blossoms in the spring.”

Atem’s eyes were glassy, and he sniffled, even as he gently squeezed Seto’s hand. “Wow,” he said with a wet laugh. “Wow, Seto. This is… really amazing. I love it.” And he stepped forward to let his forehead drop against Seto’s shoulder. “I’m glad you convinced me not to tie you to the bed today.”

Seto stroked that wild hair. “Hey now, you can still tie me up later. The day is young.”

A sound that was part chuckle and part sob.

“Let’s get to work.”

“Okay.”

* * *

“Jou owes me money,” Atem said later, as they stepped out of the shower, flushed from more than just the hot water.

“Why?”

“He said that it was impossible for you to be sentimental, and I bet him otherwise.”

“I hate both of you,” Seto said with a scowl, and he stalked into the bedroom. “Now, I believe someone promised to tie me to the bed.”

Atem, with a laugh that still held the echo of tears, followed soon after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to note that this takes place literal years into their relationship, (both official and unofficial) and they've gone through a lot of trials and tribulations to get to the point where Seto can be this emotionally open with Atem. 
> 
> (Also, I want to mention that, in this universe, Atem and Seto both switch when it comes to the bedroom. But I really wanted to write Seto with huge twink energy anyways [since I haven't really done that before] and no one was going to prevent me from doing that.)


	16. V.I.P.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atem and Yugi are waiting in line for new KaibaCorp merch. Kaiba gives Atem a call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 16 -- Standing in Line
> 
> Rated T, pre-relationship. This is set directly between "Extra Passenger" and "Blush Tones." Thursday, I managed a double update, and I thought to myself "Wow! If I keep this up, I might be able to catch up!" And then yesterday I didn't write ANYTHING because of people being ASSHOLES (ugh, gotta fix the hood of my tiny shoe box of a car now because some idiot with his stupid truck backed into it *takes a deep breath*). So that plan got shot in the foot. BUT here I am with an update. I hope you enjoy.

It may have been early spring, but that didn’t mean the cold was going to let up. The chill had teeth, teeth that would gnaw on cheeks and lips and hands if one weren’t careful. Atem was the very definition of careful when it came to the cold. He had his thick parka, the scarf – which had, unfortunately, long lost its original scent – a nice pair of gloves, and a blanket. Other people looked at him like he was insane – it was only a degree or so below freezing, just enough to cause a nice layer of frost. Hell, it was warm compared to the harsh winter Domino had just experienced.

But Atem wasn’t playing around.

Neither was Yugi, which was why they were sitting in line in the cold outside the tech store. They were relatively close to the entrance – many other people who were much, much crazier than them had set up camp the night before, whereas Atem and Yugi had only arrived early that morning.

The new model of KaibaCorp phone had come out. The first fifty sold at any participating location were _fifty percent off_.

Which was a steal. KaibaCorp phones were renowned for their silky-smooth operating systems, crisp photography functions, and near indestructibility (which not many other cellular telephone brands could say).

Yugi and Atem both had older models, and those things would probably still survive a goddamn nuclear blast. But the software was getting bogged down by the latest updates. It couldn’t be helped – their out-of-date operating systems just weren’t designed to pull that much weight.

So, it was time for replacements.

And if they even hoped to be able to get one each, they needed to get one of the first fifty. (They’d done their research – this store was a participating location.) Luckily for them, they were forty-eighth and forty-ninth in line, respectively.

The person just behind them looked relieved to be here at all, much less have that coveted fiftieth spot, for which she had been offered many bribes.

But the other people in line weren’t here for no good reason, either; there was only a limited supply, and it was best to buy one now than try to scrounge off resale sites with obnoxious price markups.

Yugi’s teeth chattered audibly. Atem looked at him with an arched brow. “You cold?”

Yugi was clutching himself tightly, balled up into an upright fetal position where they were sitting on the sidewalk. “Y-Yeah. C-Colder than I th-thought.”

Atem snorted and offered space under his blanket again. Instead of waving it off, like he did last time, Yugi gratefully scooted under.

“Shoulda done this sooner,” Yugi whimpered, curling into Atem’s side.

Atem laughed softly and wrapped an arm around Yugi’s shoulder to brace him against the cold.

“This really sucks,” Yugi said quietly. Only because he was so close was Atem able to hear him above the sounds of the city. “Why couldn’t they have done this later in the year?”

“Because then all of Domino would have been on the sidewalks,” Atem mumbled. “Mass hysteria, roads shut down, people Dueling everywhere. It would have been Battle City all over again.”

The chuckle Yugi huffed was infectious. “Duel blimps again?”

“Oh, for sure. But this time raining phones on the masses. Free technology if it doesn’t kill you first.”

“Survival of the fittest,” Yugi said gravely.

Laughing together again, they didn’t notice the sleek black car rumbling down the road in front of them, swiping across their field of vision.

They did, however, notice it when Atem’s phone started vibrating wildly, ringtone blaring.

“Calling you? At this hour?” Yugi asked, leaning away hesitantly, so Atem could dig around in his pockets. “Who is it?”

Atem held the phone up and frowned. “It’s Kaiba.”

“Speak of the devil…”

Atem had to press his thumb hard into the screen to answer the call with his gloves on.

“Hello?”

“What the hell are you doing?” Kaiba barked, and Atem abruptly yanked the phone away from his ringing ear.

He and Yugi shared a glance before he cautiously brought the phone close again.

“What does it matter to you?” Atem asked, slow, a little teasing, but not too much while Yugi was within earshot of their conversation.

“I’m pretty sure that I just saw you and Yugi sitting outside of the fucking store waiting in line like everyone else. I better not have.” Growling and blustery. Good old Kaiba.

Atem sighed. “What do you want me to say? The fifty-percent deal is the only way either of us will be able to afford it. Your tech isn’t cheap, you know.” He smirked over at Yugi. “And how do you know it’s us? Plenty of people have copied Yugi’s hairstyle. That’s what happens when you’re famous _and_ adored.”

Kaiba snorted. “Whatever. You two aren’t going to wait in line like a couple of dweebs.”

“Who are you to say what I can and cannot do?” Atem growled back, hot frustration finally mounting in his chest. He really didn’t get what this guy’s problem was sometimes.

“Go down the block towards 5th. You’ll see a black car. Get in,” Kaiba continued on, ignoring Atem entirely.

“No,” Atem bit. “We’ll lose our place in line.”

A laugh, that sharp, nearly maniacal one that to this day never failed to get Atem’s hackles raised. “There won’t be any lines where we are going.” _Click._

Atem yanked his phone away from his ear to glare at the screen.

“The bastard hung up on me,” Atem exclaimed.

Yugi blinked at him with those big violet eyes. “What did he want?”

“He… he complained about us waiting in line and then told us to get into a car…?” Atem said, trailing off, eyebrows tilting up.

Yugi shrugged, but he was standing, the blanket falling completely into Atem’s lap. “Let’s go.”

“But we’ll lose our place in line!”

Yugi laughed. “Maybe. But let’s see what Kaiba was in store for us.”

Atem could only sigh.

He probably would have gone even if Yugi hadn’t convinced him, anyways.

Yugi pulled Atem to his feet, and, after they folded the blanket, they left the line. The entire crowd of people shifted up two places.

“Which way?” Yugi asked.

“Towards 5th, he said.”

Sure enough, as they trudged through the chill morning in the city, they saw a sleek, expensive-looking black car pulled up to the sidewalk. The glassy, seamless surface shifted when a dark-tinted window rolled down from the back seat. Kaiba’s face peered out. “About damn time. Get in.” The window rolled back up.

They shared another glance.

Yugi opened the door, held it for Atem, who slid in –

Right next to Kaiba on the bench seat.

Yugi slid in next, jostling Atem into Kaiba. Atem made a low disgruntled sound.

Kaiba, as always, smelled absolutely amazing. His jacket whispered audibly against Atem’s parka as he settled more comfortably into the new seating arrangement.

“To KaibaCorp Tower,” he told the driver, and Atem could _feel_ the vibrations of his voice resonating from Kaiba’s chest into his own from where they were pressed together.

Smoothly, the car pulled away from the shoulder, and the city started to trickle by in the darkly tinted windows.

“How was your morning so far, Kaiba?” Yugi asked, amicable as always.

Kaiba gave only a short grunt. It seemed all that hot air he had spewed while on the phone had escaped.

Atem’s gloved fingers started to curl into the blanket on his lap.

Kaiba was so _close_. He could feel his breaths, his every little movement. The only solace he found was that Kaiba was _tense_ , just like him, and that he seemed to be slowly spinning the travel mug in his hand nervously, his thumb rhythmically tracing it. The proximity was affecting him, too.

If Yugi weren’t there, maybe Atem would reach out, settle a hand on Kaiba’s knee, maybe his thigh. A light touch, one easily brushed off if Kaiba felt it too invasive. But he knew from prior experience that Kaiba wouldn’t.

Kaiba would let Atem touch him.

Atem was broken from his thoughts when the car turned a corner, and the centripetal force had Atem pressing into Kaiba’s side even more.

He mourned all the layers between them. He wanted to be closer, to have at least the barrier of Kaiba’s coat removed. Atem already knew that underneath, Kaiba’s scent was thicker, richer, warmer. Atem would press his face to Kaiba’s shoulder and inhale, no matter how weird it was, because one deep drag would be worth it. It really should be illegal for someone to smell so _attractive_.

When Yugi nudged at Atem’s ribs with his elbow, Atem suddenly realized that Yugi had been talking the entire time. What he had been saying, Atem hadn’t the slightest clue, and he cut his eyes to Kaiba. Kaiba was staring ahead, oddly stony and stiff and robotic, and he was giving more hums and grunts in response.

Atem wanted to laugh.

Kaiba wasn’t paying any attention either!

 _Sorry, Yugi,_ Atem thought with a sincere amount of guilt.

“—And some of those people had been standing there since last night!” Yugi said, exasperated, running his hand through his hair as he sighed. “It’s crazy.”

Ah, okay.

“They are very determined,” Atem added, and Kaiba seemed to startle, like he hadn’t been expecting Atem to speak at all. Atem bit his lip.

The conversation lulled. Atem’s phone buzzed again, and he wedged his hand between himself and Kaiba to retrieve it.

Though Atem hadn’t thought it possible, Kaiba managed to tense up even more, though he seemed to relax when Atem withdrew, electronic in hand.

A text from a coworker.

He ignored it for now.

He set his phone in his lap, on top of the blanket. His gloved hands folded primly over it.

It was _his_ turn to jump out of his skin, it seemed, when Kaiba’s leg was suddenly pressed closer to his, thigh to knee to calf. And it didn’t move away.

It was on purpose.

Atem hid his smile behind his scarf. Slowly, so slowly it could be mistaken for the residual motion of the car, he rubbed his pant leg on Kaiba’s.

The rest of the ride to KaibaCorp was quiet, and Atem enjoyed every minute of it.

* * *

Turned out Kaiba just wanted to _give_ them two phones, free of charge ( _after_ they each beat him in a Duel, of course), and they even got to choose the color.

Later, when Kaiba had arranged a ride for them to get back to the game shop, Yugi leaned over to eye Atem with more than a hint of mischief.

“You should just ask him out already.” He flopped back against the leather seat. He blew his hair out of his face with an exasperated breath. “That tension was thick enough to cut with a plastic butterknife.”

Atem laughed. “I don’t think it’s that simple, Yugi.”

Yugi crossed his arms with another huff. “I don’t see why.”

“He needs to think it’s _his_ idea, Yugi, or he’s going to resist the whole thing.”

“ _Men_ ,” Yugi groaned, as if he weren’t one himself.

“Yeah, _men_ ,” Atem agreed quietly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys, I'm going to be real with you. I do not think any of these are my best works. I do not think any of these even make it into my top 15 pieces. It's a little wonky, some of the characterization is off, etc, etc, etc. I can go on and on about what I think is wrong with these. But I have been struggling a lot with my writing lately (and a lot of other things, too), and any writing is better than none. 
> 
> That being said, I really want to thank all the people who have left Kudos and comments so far. Thank you for reading these and taking the time to let me know that you've found them at least mildly entertaining. 
> 
> Maybe in the future I will go through and do a major rewrite to make everything smoother, but for now, how they are will do.


	17. Cinephile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seto takes it upon himself to educate Atem in popular cinema. All parties involved enjoy themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 17 -- Movie Night
> 
> Rated T, established relationship. This takes place well after "What We Do for Friends" but still some time before "New Look."
> 
> I genuinely believe that Kaiba would be a sci-fi movie snob, and would definitely feel the need to "educate" Atem on the classics. (A little less so with films of the fantasy genre, but still enough to be noticeable.)

There was a lot Atem had to catch up on, as Seto would sometimes remember. Seto would reference a movie or a song or even a goddamn meme and Atem would just give him a blank stare that still somehow managed to be so captivating. Yugi had tried his best to immerse Atem in everything he could – culture included – both when they shared a body and when they didn’t, but there was only so much one man could do.

Seto had since taken it up as his duty to educate Atem in all of the important pop culture elements that he could.

Which was why when they had a movie night, Seto was generally the one picking the film out. (Also, if it were up to Atem, they would only ever watch documentaries, which, while nice, can get a little old. Atem liked other movies, certainly, but he was a man that loved to indulge in his favorite things, and dry British nature films just so happened to fall into that category.)

Seto, of course, started with the classics. The “Jaws” series was an excellent place to begin, though Seto remembered just how _shitty_ the later movies were as they watched them. It was then that he decided they would only watch sequels if they had any merit. They meandered back to some of the film noir originals, like “Dracula” and “Frankenstein,” then wandered forward again with the original “Jurassic Park” and “The Lost World” (Seto refused to watch the third one and the reboots – Atem would have to do it on his own time). Then came “Terminator” and its first sequel (again, the rest were abandoned because _no_ , just _no_ ). Which was how Seto inadvertently steered Atem onto an Arnold Schwarzenegger stint, though Seto couldn’t complain too much, since “Conan the Barbarian” and “Conan the Destroyer” were childhood favorites of his.

They watched “Total Recall,” which Atem off-handedly brought up several times later for discussion, and then they moved on to “Predator,” “Predator 2,” and the only new canonical film of the series worth the time of day, “Predators.” Those had Atem absolutely riveted, and Mokuba had later insisted that Seto show Atem “Alien vs. Predator,” which was Mokuba’s favorite of them all (though it _wasn’t_ canonical, and the sequel was absolutely _horrid_ ). Of course, Seto would eventually get around to it, but first they had to watch the “Alien” series.

Seto would be lying if he said that he wasn’t excited. Several of the films were cinematic masterpieces (in his humble opinion), and even the shitty ones had nostalgic value. The newer installments, “Prometheus” and “Alien: Covenant,” were spectacular as well, even if they didn’t fit perfectly with the originals, but they had merit on their own.

As he prepared the snacks and beverages for Atem to come over and for their date-night-in to start, he didn’t notice the smile tugging at his lips.

* * *

A lot of people complained about the slow buildup for “Alien,” but Atem seemed enthralled.

He was a warm, comforting weight at Seto’s side draped against him like a heated blanket. One bronzed would slowly dip into the popcorn bowl on Seto’s lap, raise a few pieces to his lips, and then slowly dip down again. The whole time, Atem’s eyes, gleaming in the dim silver light of the screen, were affixed to the happenings on the screen.

“They should’ve listened to her,” Atem muttered after he swallowed his mouthful. “I can already tell this is going to go downhill fast.” Another handful of popcorn.

Seto grunted his assent. Yes, the whole film wouldn’t have happened if the rest of the crew had listened to Ripley. That wouldn’t have been much of a movie, either.

Atem eyed every interaction between the characters, listened intently to every bit of dialogue.

Then, finally, that iconic scene, and Atem’s hand was curled like talons into Seto’s knee.

“It!” Atem stammered. “It just _popped_ out of his chest!” His other hand was clutching at his own shirt, right over his sternum.

Seto chuckled. “I don’t think ‘popped’ is the right term.”

In the end, Atem just stared at the credits, then looked over to Seto. His jaw was open just a little.

“At least the cat didn’t die,” he said in a small voice.

Seto laughed and brushed his hand down Atem’s arm. Atem leaned into the touch.

Of course that would be Atem’s takeaway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PSA: Not all of Kaiba's views on movies are reflected by the author (though some of them are).
> 
> [lol guess I managed a double update again, mostly because I didn't really have a lot to say for this prompt. I hope you enjoyed it, anyway]


	18. Options

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atem wanted silver. But it might not be the best option.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 18 -- Silver
> 
> Rated G, established relationship. Set directly between "Sweet Everythings" and "2 AM."

Atem exhaled slowly through his nose. He clenched his fingers, his nails biting into his palms for a short moment before he uncurled them again. His hands were slicked with sweat. He wiped them on his pants.

“I mean… are we going inside or not?” Mokuba muttered, and Atem didn’t have to turn his head and look to know that Yugi had just elbowed Mokuba in the ribs with a stern glare.

“Just… give me a moment,” Atem murmured, taking another deep breath. “I still don’t know if this is a good idea.”

Yugi leaned his weight against Atem’s side. Atem pressed back gently. “It’s a great idea, Atem,” he said, in that low, soothing, comforting manner that never failed to put Atem at ease. “You’ve been saving up for this for a long time and thinking about it for even longer.” Another gentle nudge. “Kaiba would be foolish to turn you down.”

Mokuba joined in then. “Yeah, I doubt Seto would say ‘no’ to you. Hasn’t managed it so far, and I doubt that he’s going to start doing it anytime soon.”

Atem breathed deeply again, nodding, his resolve steeled. “Right, right. Let’s do this.”

One by one, they crossed the threshold into the store. It was brightly lit, and every single display case shone with the strips illuminating them from within. Immediately, an attendee with an overly amicable smile greeted them.

“Hello, welcome to Central Domino Jewelers. What can I help you with today?” Saccharine, like she could sweettalk the money out of Atem’s wallet.

“I’m just looking for now,” Atem answered, and he stepped up to the first display case. Watches, very nice watches, but not quite what he was looking for. He moved on. Slim bands crusted with diamonds and, occasionally, other precious gems. No, no. Not what he wanted. Not what Seto would like. “I’m thinking a thick band, little-to-no jewels. Silver, probably. Maybe an engraving…?”

Mokuba shook his head. “No, not silver.”

Atem frowned up at him. “I don’t think he would like gold…”

Mokuba chuckled. “That’s not what I meant. You’ve got the color scheme down, that’s for sure. But silver isn’t durable. It’ll get scratched or maybe even dented – especially with some of the crazy shit Seto gets up to – and it’ll tarnish easily. It’s a lot of maintenance.” Mokuba hummed thoughtfully. “Tungsten is the most durable metal they make for jewelry – it’s very scratch-resistant. However, it’s brittle and can get chipped easily. Also, it can’t be resized.”

Atem stared at Mokuba with wide eyes. He didn’t know why he was surprised – Mokuba was a Kaiba, after all, and knowing the durability of metals was probably just the tip of the engineering iceberg.

“Titanium is incredibly strong and lightweight. It doesn’t tarnish, but it also can’t be resized.” Mokuba tilted his head up, his lower lip sticking out as he continued to think. “Platinum is strong and can be easily resized, but it’s easy to scratch and very pricey.” A sigh. “Palladium is pure white, which I think Seto would like, but, again, incredibly difficult to resize and easily scratched. At least it doesn’t tarnish.”

“Okay…” Atem could only say, because he doubted Mokuba was finished.

He wasn’t. “You could always go for stainless steel, which is strong but affordable, and it’s resizable but you would have to bring it to someone who specializes in stainless steel to do so. Then there’s cobalt. I mean, it comes in a variety of colors so that shouldn’t be an issue, and it’s both scratch-resistant and chip-resistant, but again, not resizable.”

Atem pinched the bridge of his nose. “I should have done more research. This is a lot of information.”

Mokuba and Yugi both gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

“Most of the ones you mentioned aren’t resizable,” Atem noted. “How big of an issue is that?”

“Well, I’m not really sure. I guess it would be if Seto were to gain weight, or if he develops arthritis later on, but I’m sure if he ever has issues, he could just put the ring on a chain and wear it like a necklace. Also, I guess it depends on what you want him to do with it if you guys get wedding bands.”

Atem pursed his lips. He didn’t imagine Seto _ever_ gaining enough weight for his ring size to change. But that didn’t mean it couldn’t happen. But with wedding bands…

“I read that… you can fuse rings together,” Atem said slowly. That had been his hope. Seto would just get a thin wedding band to weld to the original ring.

“Oh yeah, that would be easy-peasy. I would just recommend getting a wedding band that is the same kind of metal, then, to make welding easier.”

Atem nodded slowly. All right. He wanted their rings to be made from the same metal. Preferably from the same billet. Which, if Seto wanted to fuse the engagement ring to the wedding ring, then the billet would need to be saved.

This sounded like a metal-worker’s job, not a jeweler’s.

“We’re in the wrong place,” Atem muttered.

“What?” Yugi and Mokuba both asked.

“This sounds it needs to be a custom job,” Atem replied.

The too-friendly attendant interjected herself into the conversation. Atem wouldn’t be surprised if someone told him that she had been waiting to jump in at a moment’s notice. “We can customize jewelry.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Atem sighed, shaking his head. “Let’s go.”

Mokuba’s hand latched onto his wrist. “Wait, let’s not be hasty. Let’s look at some rings, yeah? Find something you’d like. Then you know what to ask for later.”

“Good idea.” Atem ran a hand through his hair.

_I’ll find the right one, eventually. Even if I need to make it myself._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's becoming more and more popular to choose something other than your typical precious metals for wedding bands, since gold doesn't tarnish but easily scratches and chips, same thing with silver except it tarnishes. People seem to like the symbolism of incredibly durable wedding bands, which I think Atem would also appreciate. (And, let's face it, Kaiba acts like a fucking crackhead sometimes so he would definitely need something stronger than your average gold wedding band.)
> 
> It's less of a practice now, but people used to fuse their engagement ring and wedding band together so they could wear both comfortably (my sister returned to this practice because she loved her engagement ring so much but also wanted a band to match her husband's). It became more common to pass engagement rings on as heirlooms instead, or for the engagement ring to _become_ the wedding ring so an additional ring doesn't need to be purchased. 
> 
> Atem's just the kind of guy to bring the symbolism to the max, hence having all 3 rings drawn from the same billet of durable metal. 
> 
> Anyways, sorry about the rant but I hope you enjoyed this chapter! <3


	19. Bad Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atem has a bad day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 19 -- Frustration
> 
> Rated T, still technically pre-relationship since this takes place between "5% Chance" and "What We Do for Friends." I actually got this finished last night, but the WiFi at my house cut out and I didn't manage to update then. I hope you enjoy!

“Fuck!” Atem shouted, yanking himself away.

“I’m sorry, Atem! I’m so sorry! My hand just slipped and –” Makoto babbled, shaking hands raised.

“It’s fine,” Atem gritted out as he plopped to the ground and tugged his boot off to survey the damage. “It was an accident. Accidents happen.” It hurt like a bitch. But he wasn’t surprised. Makoto was a new hire, and she wasn’t used to the level of physical exertion the position required of her.

He hissed as he pushed and pulled on his toes. It fucking hurt, probably would bruise, but it didn’t feel like anything was broken.

“Are you okay?” Makoto asked quietly, kneeling next to him. Her eyes were big and glassy with tears.

He chuckled lightly. “I’m fine. It will probably just be sore for a few days.”

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Atem.”

He laced his boot back up. “It’s fine, really. At least you didn’t accidentally whack me in the head with a shovel like Hiro did to Nori.”

“A shovel!?” she gasped, horrified.

“A shovel. They still joke about it, at least,” Atem laughed. He stood slowly, subtly tested the weight on his injured foot. It didn’t hurt too bad, wouldn’t hinder his work too much today. “Well, let’s get back to it. I’d advise you to grip it from the underside this time.”

“Of course! Right! I promise not to drop it on your foot this time!” Makoto said on a rushed breath and bowed hastily.

Atem gave her another friendly smile but was too focused on grappling the concrete bird bath to notice her torrid blush. “I wouldn’t make any promises just yet, Makoto. We still need to get this to the pond.”

She didn’t drop it again. So at least Atem got one break in his bad day.

Because first, he nearly slept through his alarm. Then, Yugi had accidentally spilt his coffee on Atem. (It was Atem’s fault for bumping into him, Atem would fully admit.) It was very hot and very painful, but it didn’t leave too much of a mark. He wanted to change his work shirt… but that was the last clean one.

The washing machine was still broken, and Yugi hadn’t found time to go to the local laundromat the day before. ( _Does nothing fucking WORK around here?!_ Atem had growled to himself.)

Fine, fine, whatever. His shirts got horribly dirty throughout the workday anyways. It didn’t matter if there were coffee stains on them.

But it really, _really_ felt like it mattered.

On a bad day, every little thing that didn’t go as planned felt like it mattered.

Atem came home exhausted. For once, he was thankful that his workday ended early. But his work wasn’t done at all.

Through the New Roots program that had employed him, Atem was taking the next step up; getting his secondary education via online schooling. So far, getting a degree in botany had been very stimulating, but knowing that he had schoolwork to do after his job was always a little draining.

So after a shower – which was cold because _of course_ , that was just Atem’s luck today – he cloistered himself in his room to make his way through the material he had allotted for himself today.

He rubbed his forehead slowly, clicked his pen several times.

_Bang, bang, clank._

He groaned into his palm.

_Clank, clunk, bang._

He cursed in an ancient language. Down the hall, barely two meters from his bedroom door, the repairman was doing his _very noisy_ magic on the washing machine. It was very, very difficult to try to study how electromagnetic waves of varying energy affected covalent bonds between atoms when all that _racket_ was going on.

A knock on his door.

Atem’s head fell onto his open textbook with a dull _thump_.

“Come in…” he groaned.

The door opened. If he thought the sound of the washing machine being worked on with the door closed was loud, it was even worse when the door was open.

“Close the door,” he grumbled.

The door closed. _CLANK-CLUNK-BANG_ faded to _clink, bang, bang._

“What are you studying?” came the voice, low and quiet and a little rough. Kaiba.

“Spectroscopy,” Atem mumbled, lifting his head up and turning in his chair.

Kaiba had such a tall frame, a _long_ frame. Towering there in the middle of Atem’s room (what had once been a storage room), he seemed even bigger. Or perhaps the room even smaller. Atem turned back to his desk, a little self-conscious. Not ashamed, no, he was proud of what he had, even if it wasn’t much.

But he’d never had Kaiba in his room before this.

What was Kaiba expecting? Perhaps another little romp before leaving abruptly?

That seemed to be Kaiba’s signature move, and Atem was not in the mood for it.

“How is that going?” Still quiet, lilting, a little teasing.

“I can’t read this,” Atem muttered. He couldn’t concentrate. The words were blurring together. He was getting a headache. “Organic chemistry is just… too dense. I…” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “… I can’t understand any of it.” He sighed heavily. “General chemistry was a breeze, but… this is a whole different breed of dog.”

Kaiba stepped closer. Atem didn’t hear it, but he could _feel_ Kaiba hovering over his shoulder. That hand, long and pale, drifted through his periphery, then into his direct line of sight. He leaned to the side to let Kaiba trail his fingers over the text.

Kaiba hummed. He was standing so _close_ , Atem could _feel_ him. His warmth, his breath. Atem shivered.

“What don’t you understand?” Kaiba asked, his palm bracing on the desk surface. He was curled over Atem now, his head close, to the side, just barely grazing Atem’s peripheral vision.

“Well, where the hell do I begin?” Atem croaked, voice raw. “Any of it.”

Another hum. The nerves on the back of Atem’s neck tingled. Kaiba reached forward again, began flipping through the pages. “Are you going through the chapters numerically?”

“So far, yes.”

“Jesus, you’re on chapter twelve already. And you don’t understand any of it?” Whereas the question may have at one time come out of Kaiba’s mouth in a derisive manner, now it was tinged with concern.

Atem shook his head.

“What’s your current grade in this class?”

Atem sighed. “I’m hovering at about an eighty-five percent.”

Kaiba sputtered out his breath with puffed cheeks. Atem shuddered when it blew against his neck. “Eighty-five percent and you claim not to understand any of it?”

Atem lifted a shoulder. “I can recite knowledge without knowing what I’m talking about.”

“Fair.” And then Kaiba was snatching the book up. “Well, let’s start from the beginning and move through it slowly. I’m sure you could use a refresher.”

Atem spun in his chair when Kaiba was suddenly retreating. He turned to fold his long frame up on the bed. He sat there, perched on the bed, the book splayed in his lap.

“Let’s get this started.”

* * *

Atem sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair. It was dim outside now, but he still found himself listlessly staring out the window, at the streetlights and their haunting glow.

“So, you know more about alkanes and alkane reactions than you thought you did. That’s good,” Kaiba said quietly.

Yes, it was quiet now. The repairman was long gone, and Yugi had kindly delivered two helpings of dinner to Atem’s room (Atem thanked him profusely). The game shop was in a quiet neighborhood that wound down even more when the sun set beyond the horizon. Surprisingly, Kaiba’s voice had lowered to match the atmosphere, as though he were careful to not disturb the peace.

Atem hummed. “I think I’m done for tonight, though,” he murmured, blinking hazily, his head rolling so he could meet Kaiba’s eyes. “I’m exhausted.”

Those blue yes, seeming like a different hue in the warm light of Atem’s desk lamp, stared with that slow sort of intensity. “I can tell.”

“Today was very frustrating.” Atem let his face sink deeper into his palm. “I was ready to give up.” Unwavering, this contact, this connection between them. “Thank you for helping me.”

Kaiba probably had much better things to do than help Atem understand his organic chemistry homework.

Kaiba only grunted. He closed the textbook, set it to the side. Its heft created a sizeable dent in the fluffy comforter atop the bed.

Kaiba stood, the bedsprings creaking from the shift in weight, and Atem was once again reminded of the sheer height of the man. Kaiba took a single step forward. Atem had to crane his neck back to maintain eye contact. Kaiba reached down, and that hand, with its long fingers and warm palm, cupped Atem’s cheek. Atem couldn’t help leaning into the contact. Those eyes were still on his face, tracing the lines of it with a careful sort of attention. Then, the pad of that thumb, pressing into Atem’s lower lip.

Atem’s breath was frozen in his lungs, even as his spine subconsciously arched, pushed him closer to Kaiba’s warmth, like vines reaching for the light of the sun. Kaiba was hunching down, too, curling closer again. Like they were drawn together like magnets, bound together like atoms.

Sharing warmth, then sharing breaths, then sharing space, lips touching. Atem came alive, reactive, grasping onto Kaiba’s shoulders to drag him down and pull himself up.

It was always like this, like a damn breaking, like that first crack of thunder that announced the coming of the storm. It seemed when their lips touched, the barriers came down, like Kaiba opened up to let something hot and tender to pour out in a torrent of fire. Atem didn’t know how or when, but his legs came up to hook around Kaiba’s waist and hips, and the shift in weight pitched Kaiba forward. Kaiba tried to brace a hand on the desk chair, but it only wheeled back to slam into the desk, jolting them both.

They didn’t bother to break their lip lock, even when Kaiba gasped and Atem made a breathy, needy sound at the impact. Kaiba’s other hand wrapped its length around Atem’s waist to pull Atem closer, and Atem’s hands curled into Kaiba’s hair to card and tug restlessly.

Gyrating now, grinding, airy sounds and throaty grunts vibrating between them. Atem banded one arm around Kaiba’s neck – slightly tacky with burgeoning sweat – and the other dropped down to slither under Kaiba’s tight turtleneck –

A ringtone, shrill and blaring. It startled them both, and Atem found himself settling heavily back into the desk chair, Kaiba’s arm brushing his shoulder. Kaiba panted, still curled over him, and their eyes met.

Kaiba’s phone was still ringing.

Atem laughed then, breathless, and his voice raw when he said, “Well, check it.” He gently pushed at Kaiba’s shoulder. “It could be important.”

Kaiba straightened, looming over Atem, and he stared, stared until he finally slipped his phone from his pocket. He seemed displeased at who was calling him.

“Told you,” Atem said, quiet, and as his heart rate _finally_ managed to slow, he slumped back into his seat.

Kaiba lifted the device to his ear.

Atem couldn’t even pretend to listen, instead watching with sleepy eyes how Kaiba’s kiss-swollen lips shaped around his words.

It might have only been thirty seconds, it might have been five minutes, or it might have been an entire goddamn hour, but it really didn’t seem too long before Kaiba was hanging up.

He stared down at Atem, eyes only straying momentarily when Atem’s hand idly played with a belt loop on Kaiba’s hip. “I have to go.”

Atem hummed, dropped his hand. “I understand.” He propped his elbow on the chair arm, set his cheekbone on his knuckles. He stared up through his lashes. “Thank you again for your help.”

Those blue eyes were unwavering then, peering down at him intensely. Kaiba didn’t respond, didn’t move for a solid moment.

Atem felt his lip twitch up. “Kaiba.” He nudged the other man with his knee.

A start, Kaiba’s eyelids fluttering for a moment, his cheeks flushing.

He turned to leave.

“Thank you again, Kaiba. I appreciate the help.”

Perhaps one who had not spent so many years learning the language of that face would have missed it, but Atem noticed. He noticed the slightest quirk of Kaiba’s lips before he made his way to the door and shut it quietly on his way out.

Atem wasn’t sure what to call this… _thing_ they had between them, but he couldn’t deny that Kaiba had a knack for making Atem’s bad days better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely love writing Yugi like the mother hen of the friend group; warm and nurturing but very stern when he needs to be. (Everybody needs a friend like that.)


	20. Lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atem wants more from Kaiba. He tries not to show it. He fails miserably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 20 -- Slow
> 
> Rated M for rather inexplicit sexual content. Technically still pre-relationship. This takes place directly after "Bad Day" and directly before "What We Do for Friends." 
> 
> I say "inexplicit" because it is not the most detailed ever, but if any of you feel differently about that, I am willing to reconsider. Anyways, enjoy some pining and a little angsty Atem and a stupid Kaiba I personally want to conk over the head <3

It’d been a while since their last tryst. Between Atem’s online courses and the new tech project Kaiba had undertaken, they were both swamped with work.

Atem wondered, then, if that was all he was worth. Just some hot action when time allowed, when it was convenient, when Kaiba had the time to fit sex into his _schedule._

And maybe he would be less sour about it if their meetings had more substance. If they were more than starved kisses and heavy petting and clothes moved out of the way just enough. Maybe he would be less sour about it if he could say no. If he could do more (or perhaps less) than kiss and touch and pleasure in return. If he could maintain some boundaries without Kaiba crashing through them with all the brazen irreverence he conquered everything else.

Maybe he would be less sour if Kaiba had opened his heart to Atem as much as he had opened his body.

Because Atem wasn’t here for the sex. While it was _great_ (the best he ever had, he would say, if he hadn’t been a lily-white virgin before Kaiba’d laid hands on him), that wasn’t all that Atem wanted from Kaiba.

Atem wanted to meet Kaiba toe-to-toe in all things. Duels, the bedroom, in matters of the heart and emotions and intimacy. With this swollen intensity between them, like a firestorm through a drought-riddled forest – blustering and hot with tongues of flames coiling and curling and swirling between them – Kaiba had to feel it, too. That this connection between them was more than just physical, more than just sexual.

He _had_ to feel it.

He _had_ to.

… Right?

But Atem’s thoughts on the subject were straying, especially when he laid in bed alone at night, when those dark ideas would crawl from their shadowed dens to play around in the open.

Maybe Kaiba _didn’t._

Maybe for Kaiba, it was just physical. Just sex.

Maybe he felt nothing for Atem.

And that thought stung, stole his breath away as he stared out the tiny gaps in his blinds to the eerie streetlights illuminating Domino City.

But should he be surprised?

Kaiba _The Ice Prince_ Seto. Kaiba _I Don’t Need Friends_ Seto. Kaiba _The Heart of the Cards is Hooey_ Seto.

And the thought that hurt the most, the thought that he drowned out every day when he threw himself into his work, both at his job and in his online classes, was the one that maybe _it just wasn’t meant to be._

Kaiba wasn’t meant to be his.

Kaiba wasn’t meant to be _anyone’s._

And Atem realized maybe he should savor it while it lasted.

* * *

Oh _god_ , he missed this. Atem’s hot lips, his feverish hands, his warm and slender and strong body. Kaiba had him crushed close. Their edges were plastered together. With each fierce kiss, each tightening of his grip to Atem’s waist, to Atem’s cheek, Kaiba tried to get closer, _closer_.

He couldn’t get close enough.

He pulled away, their lips separating with a wet _pop_ , and he clawed at Atem’s shirt, tried to ruck it up Atem’s torso, and his knuckles brushed the hot skin of Atem’s stomach. A gasp, Atem’s hands scrambling and pushing at his shoulders, at his chest.

“Wait, wait,” Atem breathed, though he instinctually tipped his chin away to let Kaiba kiss and bite down his pretty neck.

“I’ve waited long enough,” Kaiba growled against that heaving throat. He flashed his teeth against a sensitive part, right along a flexing tendon.

“ _Kaiba,_ ” Atem’s moan, deep and tingling in Kaiba’s ear, thrilled and delighted him.

The salt of his desire blossomed on Kaiba’s hot tongue as he dragged it up to catch at Atem’s earlobe.

“Kaiba!” Atem hissed, and his fingers sank into Kaiba’s hair and curled _tight._

The worst part was that Kaiba found it _incredibly_ arousing. He pulled away, both by his own volition and the sharp tug Atem gave his sensitive scalp.

“I said _wait._ ” The stern tone Atem tried to affect was lost in his breathy panting.

Kaiba dangled there by his hair, his lip curling into a snarl. His palms flattened against Atem’s skin. The shiver that wracked his body was poorly hidden. Kaiba smirked.

But Atem’s face… it wasn’t that rictus of passion, that sneer of ferocity, that expression of raw carnal desire.

It was… softer.

Vulnerable.

Intense crimson had melted into something warm, something gently bright, like red petals had unfurled and bloomed, baring the sweet enigma within. Kaiba couldn’t look away.

“Kaiba,” he said again, with a smile so small and private, it had Kaiba’s heart stuttering in his chest. “Slow down,” he whispered, leaning back up, his hands smoothing through silky brown locks. His lips brushed over Kaiba’s with each syllable. Kaiba could taste his breath. “Let’s take our time.” His hands were kneading now, slow but intense. The sensations they created were delicious. “We have plenty of it.”

“Exactly,” Kaiba replied, breath trembling. “Time for recovery, maybe a second round.” Despite himself, his hands crawled up Atem’s abdomen centimeter by slow centimeter.

“No.” A purring chuckle, Atem’s head shaking back and forth languidly. Kaiba swayed, following those lips like a charmed snake. “Time to _savor_ , Kaiba,” he whispered. His palms slid down then and abandoned Kaiba’s hair in favor of his cheeks. “I’m weary of the haste.” The words were all breath, breezing across Kaiba’s lips. “We devour one another each time—” He interrupted himself with another of those sultry chuckles that always made heat percolate through Kaiba’s gut. “—like children stealing sweets.” Again, his hands slid down, cupping Kaiba’s jaw, thumbs against Kaiba’s lips, fingertips tickling earlobes. “Gluttonous and hurried…” Down more, his palms hot on Kaiba’s neck, sure to feel his thundering pulse. “… gorging ourselves before we get caught.”

Kaiba tried again for those teasing lips, but Atem ducked in to press slow, melting kisses to the sensitive skin just above the collar of Kaiba’s turtleneck. Such simple but sensual contact had that low heat flaring hotter, smoldering slow but bright in Kaiba’s veins.

“Can we even taste it…” Susurrated against a humid kiss left behind. “… when we gulp it down so fast?” Atem’s hands were on the move again, creeping down Kaiba’s body, leaving a warm glow behind wherever he touched. His tongue flicked out, laved against a spot that made Kaiba’s body jerk and the air punch from his lungs. “Is it really indulgence…” Lips and teeth flashed against Kaiba’s jaw. He met those darkened eyes. Atem’s hot palms and long, lovely fingers were on the bare flesh just underneath the hem of Kaiba’s shirt now. “… if we do not savor every moment?”

Kaiba’s breath stuttered in his lungs, and he wrapped his hands tight around Atem’s waist to reel him closer again. “You talk too much,” he croaked.

But Atem had him reined in now, had him set to that slow, smoldering pace. He marveled at the way Atem’s hands _moved_ now, all sinuous and graceful, like he was _caressing_ the clothes off Kaiba’s body. All warm and tender, just like those eyes, as they guided his touch along Atem’s form. This way, he realized, he could pick every piece of Atem apart, map out each centimeter of skin, find all the little places that made Atem make sounds like _that_.

But Atem was giving as good as he got, and Kaiba found himself gasping against Atem’s lips, against his neck, along his shoulder, when those nimble hands found the most perfect places to stroke and knead and grip, _grip_ like Atem direly needed something to tether him there to the moment. That mounting desire, this burgeoning _longing_ for a deeper pleasure beset them both, but they made it there in good time, languidly tracing the trail there.

Foreplay like this – Kaiba decided as they pushed their hips together, as they grasped their most intimate parts together with slick hands – was undeniably _hot_. Molten desperation churned within him, but he kept with Atem’s slow pace, the pace of his body and his breath and his hand under Kaiba’s own.

Kaiba found his end first like that, over Atem’s prone, shuddering body, before Atem tugged him down, close, so close that Kaiba had to brace both hands on the bed to keep himself from collapsing down on top of him. Slow but intense, speeding up, Atem touched himself under him, and his heavily lidded eyes never broke away from Kaiba’s own wide stare, even as Atem arched sharply and cried out, his voice deep as always but soft and plaintive.

It was vulnerability.

It was _intimacy._

It scared the living shit out of Kaiba.

Atem was still catching his breath – it always took him so long to catch his breath – when Kaiba vaulted himself out of bed.

“Kaiba!” Airy and incredulous. Kaiba knew Atem had quickly rolled to reach for him, if not for the creaking of the bed then for the fingertips that just barely grazed his forearm.

“I just remembered something I have to do,” Kaiba managed to force out despite his leaden tongue.

“Kaiba, wait!”

He didn’t care that all he had were his clothes bunched to his naked body as he fled the room.

* * *

He was sincerely hoping that he could sneak in without Yugi seeing him.

Of course, things hardly ever worked out the way Atem hoped they would.

Yugi was _waiting for him_ , like an ambush predator, like a crocodile waiting on the riverbed for some unsuspecting wildebeest to take a quick drink.

But instead of a monstrously strong maw full of sharp teeth, Yugi had a concerned gaze and soulful eyes.

“Atem…” Yugi began, soft and soothing. “I’ve been trying to let you do your own thing for a while now but…”

Atem tried to curl in on himself, tried to hide where his face was red and swollen from tears.

“… I really think we need to talk about this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh so yeah it leaves it off on a not fun note, but they _do_ get together in the end, so... it's not so bad...? You will get to read the resolution of these things... eventually... 
> 
> ANYWAYS, I hope you enjoyed. I read this over a total of 3 times but it is late where I am and my eyes are getting heavy, so there are no doubt typos everywhere. I will eventually go through and do a heavy edit of this entire work, but that time is not now. 
> 
> See ya next time <3


	21. Package Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atem moves in. So does Sekhmet. It's a package deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 21 -- Animals
> 
> Rated E for one explicit awkward sex scene, which I will mark off with double line breaks (it's mostly for comedic value, tbh). This is set when their relationship is truly established, so sometime after "Cinephile" but before "New Look."

Plaintive mewls echoed through the living room. Atem cooed reassurances. He knelt, cat carrier in hand. Seto watched the whole thing from a distance. All Atem’s worldly belongings were now moved into the manor. His clothes were lined up next to Seto’s in the closet. His collection of nature documentaries were set along Seto’s sci-fi movies in the family room. His variety of books had their own shelf in the manor library.

Seto’s bedroom, once mostly void of any personality, was now decorated here and there with knick-knacks Atem had gathered over his recent years as a mortal, and the bathroom now had a drawer designated for Atem’s cosmetics.

Everything Atem owned was now here.

Which left only his cat, Sekhmet.

Atem had been adamant about bringing her with him, though Seto would not have asked for Atem to leave her behind, anyway.

It would be a first; they’d never had an animal in the manor before.

Well, an animal that could roam around. Mokuba had his aquarium at one point (he’d picked live-bearing fish so of course they had bred like crazy), and also at another time had a bearded dragon (which Seto had been quite fond of), but that wasn’t the same as having a cat or a dog.

Atem had been in charge for preparation.

“This whole place is unfamiliar to her,” he had said, “The smells, the layout, everything. At least my scent is scattered, but hers needs to be, too. It’ll make everything seem more familiar.”

So Atem had spent ample time in the important rooms, had practically draped himself across various pieces of furniture to ensure that his scent was detectable to Sekhmet’s sensitive feline nose, and then he had left _her_ things about – her favorite scratching post in the family room, her food dishes in the kitchen, her little bed and her favorite blanket to lay on in the bedroom.

Now Atem was on his hands in knees on the floor in front of the open carrier.

The yowling cries had stopped, but she still hadn’t emerged from her temporary prison.

“C’mon, baby,” Atem cooed, lowering himself further to peer into opening. “You can come out now. Everything’s fine.”

A quiet meow.

He backed up a little, strong thighs curling and bunching under his tight jeans when he sat up a bit.

And orange head poked out.

A wave of nostalgia washed over Seto. He remembered when that cat was tiny, too small to leave her mother. She was… quite big now, actually. One of the biggest cats Seto had ever seen. According to most statistics, she was, in fact, very large for a domesticated cat. And a rarity – over eighty percent of orange tabbies were male.

When Seto had relayed this fact to Atem, Atem’s only response had been a snappish “Of course she’s special!”

Of course, of course, my bad.

In the here and now, Atem grinned. His tanned skin was a stark contrast against that pale orange fur when he let her sniff his hand, and when she accepted the touch with an affectionate headbutt, Atem did that cooing again and stroked her well-groomed coat.

It seemed, along with Atem, there came another addition to the family.

* * *

The manor was large, and if all variables were entirely random, then statistics would have it that there would be a very small chance that Seto would be in the same room as Sekhmet at any one time. The variables, however, were not random. When Atem was not in the manor, it seemed that wherever Seto went, he had an orange shadow lingering in his wake.

He didn’t know what he did to gain this apparent honor. He’d barely interacted with that cat (he wasn’t entirely sure he even liked her yet), let alone do something that would develop some sort of rapport between them. And yet, there she was, _somehow by chance_ – if her affected indifference were to be believed – in the same room at the same time all the time with Seto.

It was a little odd, but Seto supposed he didn’t mind too much.

Until they made close contact.

Perhaps she had gleaned the idea from seeing her person cuddled up to Seto on the couch on a near nightly basis. Perhaps she had observed and then decided that Seto was, in fact, safe to approach and, in addition, a very comfortable replacement for a cushion.

It started on one of those very nights.

Seto had finally gotten around to showing Atem “Willow” (another childhood favorite of his). They were both sucked in, enthralled by the movie before them. Atem, as was per usual, leaned his weight against Seto’s side. Comfortable, familiar. Even Sekhmet’s astonishingly loud purring was normal, as she snatched up any chances she received to curl up on a stationary Atem’s lap.

But then a moving object asserted pressure on Seto’s thigh. Then another. Then another. Then another. He frowned, glanced down as that rumbling purr grew close. That big orange fluffball had meandered onto his lap. She sniffed at the buttons on Seto’s sweater. Her yellow eyes were heavily lidded, content looking. Purring, purring, purring, so much so it made Seto’s skin tickle, and then her feline lip curled to bare sharp teeth and gums. But she didn’t bite. No, she rubbed her _gums_ on Seto’s sweater.

“Aw, she likes you,” Atem whispered, hanging back, watching Sekhmet as she scent-marked his boyfriend, who was staring at him with eyes that screamed _help me._

Happy with the job she had done claiming either Seto or the sweater he was wearing (possibly even both), she spun around in his lap in several slow circles before gracefully settling herself down.

Seto’s hands hovered awkwardly.

He had no fucking clue what to do when he had this massive cat in his lap.

Atem chuckled, low, leaning close to Seto’s ear and making him shudder. “Pet her.” Atem demonstrated with his own hands, stroking along her back, rubbing gently behind her ears, and then – “She likes to be scratched under the chin the most.”

And the slightest touch, she was tipping her head up for Atem’s crooked fingers.

Seto followed suit, a little more slowly and cautiously. It felt odd to have an animal _vibrating_ below his hands.

“I’m glad you’re getting along,” Atem murmured, relief painted into every syllable.

 _For now_.

* * *

* * *

The bed creaked with each vigorous thrust. Seto’s lungs in that moment felt like they barely had enough capacity for breathing, let alone making any sounds, and he was left choking and gasping against the sheets. Atem seemed to be making up for the silence, if not with his pleasured grunts and throaty moans, then with the filthy words he kept whispering into Seto’s ear as he tugged at Seto’s hair and kneaded sensually at the back of his neck with the hand he was using to pin Seto to the mattress.

After he was completely recovered from his surgery, Atem’s endurance seemed to have increased tenfold, a revelation they were both eager to explore in the bedroom.

Seto did not at all mind being Atem’s guinea pig, not when it felt this damn good.

So caught up in his thrashing and his writhing and his panting, he did not notice the shift in weight on the mattress. No, he was too caught up in the way Atem wrangled him in place, in the way Atem’s thighs knocked his open against the edge of the bed, in the way Atem’s fingers gripped harshly at his hip bone to notice the orange furball padding closer to them on the disheveled blankets.

Until there were curious yellow eyes peering into his own, inches away.

“Fuck!” he managed to breathe hoarsely (though he had intended to shout), and he jolted away.

“Seto,” Atem rasped, breath shaking with a strange concoction of pleasure, arousal, and amusement.

“Y-Your fucking cat…” Seto panted, trying to strain away, but she seemed bound and determined to figure out just _what the hell they were doing._

“Sekhmet, go away for now,” Atem laughed. He tried to nudge the cat aside, but it was like trying to handle a sack of wet sand.

Seto scowled. How dare he laugh.

Finally, after being parried one too many times, she made a disgruntled sound and jumped to land with a loud _thump_ on the bedroom floor.

“Hmm, where were we?” Atem purred, kneading at the back of Seto’s neck.

“No, no, the moment was ruined, Atem. I’d like it if you pulled out now,” Seto growled, though his heart was still racing, and his hips were unconsciously rocking back.

A chuckle, low and rolling. It made the hair on the back of Seto’s neck stand at attention. “Is that so?”

Atem’s other hand, once at Seto’s hip, slipped down to grasp at the meat of Seto’s thigh. Seto gasped, the blankets above his head clenched in his white-knuckle grip, when Atem _shoved_ , hiking Seto’s knee up onto the mattress and prying him open in time for a snapping thrust.

Seto didn’t even have the time to keen in pleasure.

“Your legs are so _long_ ,” Atem snarled.

 _Oh god don’t stop_ – and it might have been a blaring voice in his head, or he might have shouted it at the top of his lungs but, either way, Atem seemed to get the message loud and clear.

* * *

* * *

“G-God,” Seto panted, lying back on the sheets. “I hate your fucking cat.”

Atem laughed breathlessly then. “I’m sure.” It dripped with sarcasm. “She adores you, you know.”

Seto grunted.

Yeah, which was why he had to keep his home office door closed if he wanted any goddamn privacy anymore.

But when they curled up to sleep at night, it was always Atem with whom she cuddled, and Atem would coo to her sleepy farewells before he drifted off. Even if she were (mildly) annoying, if she came with Atem, Seto would happily endure her.

(Secretly, he loved that cat, though.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Again, I was only capable of doing some minor proofreading because of the late hour but thank you for your patience.)
> 
> I'm sorry, I really couldn't help myself. Pets can make sex _really_ awkward when they do all the spontaneous, silly stuff they do. I just thought it was hilarious to do this to Kaiba and I hope you guys enjoyed it XD
> 
> Ugh, on another note, apparently the last week of the month is Rivalshipping Week, and I love Rivalshipping so I will probably participate in that, too. I'm hoping to at least get ahead on writing for Pridecember before those start though, but we'll see. This will take first priority, either way. And then at the beginning of the year I will go back to working on my piling WIPs T-T


	22. Mudita

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mokuba's happy that Seto's happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 22 -- Blanket
> 
> Rated G, established relationship. Takes place sometime after "Fit for a King" and directly before "Bless This Family."
> 
> "Mudita" is a mind-state described in Buddhism as feeling joy for other people's happiness.

He sighed happily at the warmth of the manor. It was damn cold outside, and he dearly missed even the lukewarm breezes of autumn. Small white flakes fell from his wild black hair when he shook it out, others melted against the strands. He stowed his coat and gloves away, kicked off his boots, and walked further into the house. It was mostly dark, which was fitting, since it was getting rather late at night.

Mokuba could have simply stayed at his friend’s house that night, but he really wanted to sleep in his own bed.

It was Friday, which meant it was movie night for Seto and Atem, and, if they picked a longer film, they were probably still in the family room.

A loud _pop_ sounded from his jaw when it stretched to allow his deep yawn.

It was worth checking.

It was… nice, seeing them together. Seto rarely ever relaxed around people (Mokuba was one of the few people privy to the sight), and a warm joy spread in Mokuba’s chest to see his big brother finally shedding away that veneer of stoic responsibility around someone else for once.

And Atem was awesome, too.

Mokuba never thought that Seto would ever really get into a romantic relationship, let alone with someone so friendly and personable (the exact opposite of Seto’s own personality).

The large, empty halls swallowed the quiet thuds of his feet as he walked up to the archway leading to the family room. Sure enough, dim bluish light flickered inside, and the television emitted sounds of explosions and laser fire. Mokuba peered in. It looked like they were watching one of the “Star Wars” films.

 _Were_ being the operative word.

Now, they lied on the couch. Seto’s long frame took up all the space and then some, his feet poking just slightly over the arm of the couch. He was on his side, and, pressed back-to-chest, was Atem slumbering soundly in his arms. They had fallen asleep at some point during the film, some time ago, if the way Seto’s eyes moved beneath his lids had anything to say about it. Behind the curve of Seto’s knees, Sekhmet was curled, and her eyes slowly drifted open as Mokuba crept closer.

Slowly, he pulled the mostly decorative throw blanket off the back of the couch. He draped it over the two, and, making sure it was adequately covering them both, he quietly stepped out, Sekhmet close at his heels.

“You wanna sleep in a real bed, huh?” Mokuba asked with a chuckle.

He only got a meow in reply.

“I’ve always wanted a cat. Wanna cuddle with me tonight?”

Another meow.

“Awesome.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a bit shorter, but I said what I wanted to say. There's no point in diluting it, is there? I hope you enjoyed it anyways. I'm hoping to get another one out tonight so I can catch up but we'll see how that works out.


	23. Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atem wanted "just a bite." Seto regrets agreeing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 23 -- Bite
> 
> Rated T, established relationship. Takes place some time after "What We Do for Friends" and some time before "Cinephile."

Snow drifted down in the gray light of winter just outside the café’s windows. Pedestrians bustled about, all bundled up warmly in their winter gear. The occasional car drove through the slush on the streets. It was cold out there. Seto’s hands tightened around his cup at the thought. The warmth of the fresh coffee glowed through the material.

He peeked, just a moment, at the man sitting at the small table across from him.

Crimson eyes stared intently back.

Heat crawled from Seto’s ears to his cheeks, and he darted his eyes back outside.

He didn’t know what to say, and Atem seemed perfectly content to let him suffer in silence.

What should they _talk_ about?

They’d… had amicable conversations before, right? Seto suddenly couldn’t remember a single one of them.

Pathetic. This is the same man he’d been sleeping with for the past several months, the man he was now _dating_ (though this was technically their first date). Why couldn’t he just _talk_ to him?

It was like tires stuck in deep snow or thick mud. They spun uselessly, looking for traction where there was none but where there really _should_ have been some.

Then the treads stuck on something solid.

Seto cleared his throat, turned his head to address Atem, sitting there looking all good and handsome and shit in his cable-knit sweater and beat-up blue jeans. “How are your online classes going?”

Air huffed from Atem’s nose, and his lips pursed. He was fighting a laugh, that bastard. “I’m on winter break for right now.”

“Of course,” Seto drawled, wanting to beat himself in the head with a very heavy club. “Your, uh, operation didn’t effect anything then, did it?”

Again, those lips working away his amusement, Atem idly rotated his cup in his hand. “No,” and the words quavered the slightest.

A low growl of frustration rumbled in Seto’s chest. “Don’t laugh at me.”

Atem licked his lips then, his breath huffing in something akin to a chuckle, and he lifted his tea to take a small sip. “I’m sorry. It’s just rare to see you so obviously out of your element.”

Cup abandoned on the table, Seto crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat. His coat – draped on the back of his chair – rustled quietly.

One of those elegant hands lifted apologetically. “I don’t mean anything by it. You are just overthinking everything.” Soft, quiet, reassuring. “Let’s… do what feels natural.” Atem leaned forward on one elbow, his chin pillowed in his palm. His fingertips drummed against his high cheekbones. Seto realized, suddenly, that his nails were painted black. Though incongruous with the rest of Atem’s outfit for the day, it somehow all worked. Probably his weird pharaoh-magic bullshit. “Have you been following the recent tournaments?”

“Of course.” Seto rolled his eyes. “What a fucking mess. I swear, some people wouldn’t know what a strategy was if one walked up and introduced itself to them.”

Atem laughed, low and delighted, and Seto felt himself relaxing into his chair.

Oh yeah.

Sometimes, it was hard to remember that Atem _liked him_ , bad attitude and all.

He just… had to be himself.

“It’s a wonder anybody qualifies for tournaments these days,” Seto mumbled into his cup.

“It’s not like it was back in the day, huh?” Again, quavering, Atem’s eyes crinkled with humor.

“Hey, don’t try to make me sound like an old man.”

“I don’t have to ‘try’ anything. You do it all on your own. The only thing you’re missing is a cane to shake at teenagers when they don’t use trap cards effectively.”

Their banter was interrupted when the waitress dropped off their order.

For Atem, a chocolate lava cookie topped with powdered sugar (Seto was _pretty_ sure that Atem wasn’t supposed to be having it but he really didn’t want to start off their first date with a genuine argument). Seto eyed his own raspberry turnover critically. It looked nice enough, but the appearance of a dish and the taste of it were two different matters entirely.

“You are looking at it like it might be poisoned,” Atem chuckled, already with a fork in hand. Seemed like he didn’t want to get powder all over his fingers. Smart.

“It just might be. You never know,” Seto snarked back, though he watched intently when Atem pushed the broad edge of a fork tine down into the chocolate cookie. Melted fudge oozed out around metal and down onto the saucer.

Atem made a noise of interest.

He lifted the chocolatey bite to his lips and, with that savoring eagerness that called to Seto’s mind a time _years_ before, supped on the dessert. Atem’s face softened, and he let out a slow breath as he chewed.

“It’s good.” A statement, not a question, from Seto.

Atem nodded slowly.

After he’d properly enjoyed that little morsel, his eyes fluttered back open, only to land on the raspberry turnover resting untouched on Seto’s side of the table.

“Can I try a bite of that?” Atem asked. He seemed to vibrate a little, excited at the prospect of both trying something new and trying a new kind of sweet treat.

Seto pushed the saucer forward with his fingertips. “Go ahead. Just a bite, though.”

Atem pinched the turnover between forefinger and thumb, and he raised it to his parting lips, his pearly teeth flashing…

… And took nearly half of it in one giant chomp.

“You son of a bitch,” Seto hissed. “I was actually looking forward to eating that.”

Atem laughed around his mouthful. Seto reproachfully pulled the saucer and the greatly diminished turnover back toward himself.

“When I said ‘just a bite,’ I didn’t expect you to distend your jaw like a fucking snake.”

Atem’s shoulders were shaking, and though a napkin held to his face hid his grin, his sparkling eyes were telling enough.

“You owe me a turnover, prick.”

“Half a one,” Atem managed once he’d swallowed down the pilfered bite.

“No, no, a whole one. The second half is for emotional distress.”

Another delighted laugh.

Dates with Atem were going to be a lot easier than Seto originally thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, this was technically their first "date" as an official couple. Seto's kind of awkward and Atem is a little shit, the usual. lol 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this! I'll see you tomorrow, maybe?


	24. The Coat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When searching their closet, Atem finds a relic of their teenage years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 24 -- Visual Kei
> 
> Rated T, established relationship. Set directly between "Fit for a King" and "Mudita." Implied sexual content at the end of the chapter.

The metal frame of the stepping stool creaked shrilly in the closet. The damn thing required a decent amount of strength to snap open, but it hardly strained Atem’s arms. The screws cried in agonized protest – Atem grimaced – but he got it. He set it on the floor and climbed up.

He absolutely refused to use it around Seto; the ribbing would be endless.

Alas, he needed it to reach the upper shelves in the closet (Seto just had to raise his hand, the bastard).

From the top step of the stool, he frowned at the dust-lined wood that meet his gaze.

Maybe he should clean up here, too…

He shrugged. Later.

All the small boxes up here belonged to him. Seto, it seemed, either had no opportunities to collect small belongings or did not feel inclined to keep them. Atem pulled a box closer. He had no idea which one was the one he was looking for – he really should take a more detailed inventory of his belongings – but he was sure he would find it eventually.

He checked each box, to no avail. The last he had apparently filled with letters and notes and cards he had received from friends over the years. (What can he say? He was sentimental like that…)

As he shuffled them all back into the box, a paper fluttered down. His reflexes weren’t sharp enough for him to catch it (though he tried), and the paper settled down on the floor of the closet.

He sighed, and a cloud of dust blew up in front of him.

A tickle, growing stronger.

He sneezed into his elbow.

“Dear god,” he grumbled, shook his head, and stepped down from the top tier of the stool.

He bent down to pick up the paper. When he looked up, at flash of white and red caught his attention. He stood slowly, brows furrowing, until he realized what he was looking at.

He snickered, letter forgotten after he set it on that top step.

The white material slipped smoothly under his fingertips. It was surprisingly soft, and he realized with a start that he’d never touched it before.

Seto’s white trench coat, in all its studded and padded glory. He never wore it anymore, and Atem didn’t know why he was surprised that it was in the closet. Perhaps there _were_ certain things that Seto got sentimental about.

Carefully, Atem tugged it off the hanger. He held it up. It was so long that even when he held it over his head, the ends dragged along the floor.

He brushed his nose along the velvety red inner lining.

Unfortunately, Seto’s scent had long faded. Now, it only held the aroma of untouched fabric and the dim scent of some kind of detergent.

He rubbed his cheek along the inside.

“So soft,” he murmured. No wonder Seto wore this for several years straight.

Was it comfortable?

Atem pursed his lips at the coat.

Only one way to find out…

* * *

“Where the hell is he…?” Seto grumbled.

It was such a fucking paradox. When Seto needed to get things done, there was Atem, bothering and distracting him. When Seto _wanted_ to find Atem, he was elusive like a goddamn cryptid.

The last place he could think of was their bedroom. He had no idea why Atem would even be in there at this hour, but he supposed anything was possible at this point.

“Atem?” he called, striding through the door. It swung shut behind him.

Lo and behold, there Atem was, standing in front of the floor-to-frame mirror hanging on the door to the en-suite bathroom.

He was swallowed in white, spiking from his shoulders and falling down his back to trail at his feet on the floor, like the train of a wedding dress or an elaborate ballgown.

“My trench coat…” Seto murmured.

Atem spun on his heel, the coat twisting around him rather artfully. His hands settled on his hips, and the lovely dark tone of his skin stood out against the pearly white of the jacket. Of course, the coat was tailored to fit Seto’s frame perfectly, so the flaring design meant to rest at Seto’s hips draped down lower on Atem, closer to his mid-thighs. The long blond pieces of his hair draped down to brush along the dramatic raised collar.

“I found it,” Atem said with a beaming grin. As if that weren’t obvious. He spread out his arms, one eyebrow arched. “How do I look?”

His shoulders and a good portion of his upper arms were engulfed by the padded adornments. That jacket just made him look… even smaller. He was corded with strong muscles from manual labor, and that was the only reason he wasn’t absolutely swimming in that jacket.

“You look ridiculous,” Seto gritted. His ears were getting hot. Dammit.

Because, of course, Atem _noticed._ A smirk slinked its way onto those shapely lips, and Atem’s head tilted just to the side as he chuckled lowly. “But you like it.”

Seto scoffed, his nose wrinkling with a snarl. “Yeah r-right.” _Fuck._

Atem licked his lips slowly, his hip cocking as he shifted his weight. “It’s so _easy_ to rile you up.” He raised one hand, beckoned to Seto with crooking fingers. Seto’s feet moved of their own accord, like he was just a puppet on strings with which Atem would play. Seto found himself before Atem, his hands reaching out automatically, digging beneath that draping white to find Atem’s lean, warm waist. Atem’s palm and elegant fingers were on his face now, cool in comparison to Seto’s hot cheeks. “The simplest things.” Atem had him pulled close, dizzyingly close. Seto could swear that Atem’s presence alone was drugging, like he had an aura of aphrodisia always lurking about him. “Lipstick,” Atem murmured, voice thick with amusement, his thumb pushing against Seto’s lower lip.

Seto closed his eyes and groaned. Fuck, he knew about the lipstick.

“The glasses.” Then the pad skimmed and caught along Seto’s lashes. He opened his eyes in response. Those crimson irises were so close, studying him with that rapt attention that never failed to make Seto’s breath stutter.

Atem tugged on his face then, brought him for a brief, hot kiss. Seto mouthed back but Atem was already gone.

“When I’m all hot and sweaty and dirty…” Atem growled lowly. He pressed their foreheads together. “And now, apparently, when I wear this trench coat.”

Seto grasped up, feeling Atem’s chest as his throat went dry. “It’s just you,” Seto croaked.

“Just me?” Atem licked his lips again. His tongue brushed Seto. A shiver traced down Seto’s spine.

“Just you. You just… really turn me on,” Seto admitted, face hot.

Atem gave him another kiss, brief but wet and making Seto’s knees shake. “The feeling is mutual,” Atem gasped.

“I turn—” Another kiss. “—you on?” A smirk. He knew that, but it was always nice to hear it sometimes.

“Of course,” Atem whimpered. His next kiss came with a sharp nip. “Now touch me. You know how I get when you _stare_ at me like that.”

“Don’t order me around,” Seto hissed.

But he was already doing as told.

That damn jacket. He should have just gotten rid of it.

(Though it seemed maybe it should stick around. You know, for sentimental reasons.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Atem would look 100% ridiculous in that fucking jacket, but Seto is dumb and horny so what do we expect?


	25. Nice Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, Seto doesn't say nice things to Atem. Well, he's going to hear some nice things, dammit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 25 -- Sweet
> 
> Rated T, established relationship. This takes place directly between "Cinephile" and "Package Deal."
> 
> Happy Holidays! Here's some fluff!

“Seto, it’s just a snake,” Atem said. His red eyes were affixed to the reptile he was handling with care. Part of its slinky body was wrapped around his forearm. His other hand gripped it just behind the head. The beast was mostly still, aside from the occasional twitching from its long, scaled body.

“Get it out of the house,” Seto hissed. Of course, Atem had found one while roaming around outside with Mokuba and brought it in to show it to Seto.

Seto was not amused.

“Isn’t he cool, Seto?” Mokuba exclaimed. “He’s got a bunch of stripes.”

“It’s a rat snake,” Atem hummed, examining the reptile closely.

“Don’t put your face so close to it.” Seto pressed Atem’s arm with two fingertips. “It could bite you.”

Atem frowned at him. “I have a good hold on him, and he’s not venomous.”

Seto sputtered at him. “It still has teeth! That mouth is designed to grab on and never let go. It’ll shred your face like you’re made of mozzarella cheese.” He nudged Atem’s shoulder. “Go put it back where you found it.” Atem sighed, shaking his head, and he walked out through the open sliding door. “Idiot,” Seto muttered.

Mokuba laughed, clapping Seto on the shoulder.

“What are you laughing at?”

“You,” Mokuba replied. “You guys are supposed to be dating, but I swear I never hear you say anything nice to Atem.”

A fierce scowl twisted Seto’s face. “I say nice things to him.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what? Give me an example.” Taunting, mischievous.

Seto huffed air out through his nose. A pause. “I don’t have to give you shit.”

“Ha! You couldn’t even think of anything!” Mokuba cackled.

“Couldn’t think of what?” Atem asked, suddenly back in the house, snake-free.

“Wash your hands,” Seto barked, but Atem was already at the kitchen sink doing just that.

Mokuba snickered. “Seto couldn’t think of a time when he said something nice to you.”

They could only see Atem’s shoulders lifting into a shrug. The water stopped running. “He doesn’t say nice things to me.”

Stunned silence.

“But he does nice things _for_ me.” Atem was wiping his hands dry. He smiled then, a small one, his eyes sparkling. “Seto isn’t a man of words. He’s a man of action.” He sighed and looked at the clock. “I should get going. I promised Yugi I would help restock when his shipment came in.” He stopped to give Seto a peck on the cheek, then trailed from the room.

Seto found himself pouting. “I _do_ say nice things to him.”

“I dunno. I think I’m going to believe Atem over you,” Mokuba said, lilting and teasing.

Seto made an offended face at his back.

* * *

“I brought you that Caesar salad that you like,” Atem said, digging through the bag he had set on Seto’s desk.

Seto’s breath moved slowly through his airways. The desk chair creaked with his shift in weight. Elbow on the arm of the chair, he rubbed his thumb along his forefinger. Atem was ducked down, pawing through the bag like an anteater through a termite mound. A Caesar salad, some cutlery, and a sandwich for Atem.

“Figured you hadn’t eaten yet,” Atem said. “It’s a wonder you’ve lived this long when you forget to take care of yourself.”

This wasn’t the first time that Atem had finagled his way up the floors of KaibaCorp Tower to end up at Seto’s desk, only to give him lunch, a stern reprimand, and a kiss on the cheek before he disappeared.

Atem stepped around the desk with all the grace and nobility of a stag or gazelle. The laptop closed with a _click_ under his fingers, and he dragged it away to replace it with the salad.

The salad looked fresh. Seto would believe that Atem had picked out the ingredients himself. More likely, though, he had stood there, picking through the salads to make sure he got the best one.

Seto looked up to Atem’s solemn face as he opened the cutlery packet. “C’mon, I can open that. You don’t have to treat me like a child.”

“I’m not treating you like a child.” Quiet, a little distracted, but he ended up handing over the stretched but unopened packet. “I just worry about you.”

“Rich. I wasn’t the one rushed to an emergency room less than six months ago.”

Atem crossed his arms. He didn’t smile, not one bit, instead stared back with that stony, stern look. Seto fought the urge to gulp. “That doesn’t mean I can’t worry about you.”

A long exhale shifted his shoulders almost to the point of aching. “I know.” He tore into the plastic.

Atem waited until Seto cracked open the food container to begin eating his salad before he moved to walk away.

“Is that sandwich for you?” Seto asked, poised to take a mouthful.

Atem paused. “Yes.”

“Stay and eat your lunch, then. You’re already here.” He gestured with his fork toward one of the empty seats in front of his desk.

“… Thank you.”

He settled in that chair, one leg folded regally across the other. How Atem in his torn black jeans and faded band tee made eating a convenience store sandwich so chic, Seto would never know.

He wondered what Atem was doing on days like these that made him stop and think, “Wow, I wonder if my boyfriend ate lunch today? Probably not.” And on these days, he always picked something light, something that wouldn’t drag Seto down for the rest of work. And it was always fresh, even if it wasn’t homemade. Of course, Seto had had a lot better salads, probably for a much higher price, but… it was the thought that counted, he realized.

Seto realized he was sitting there, staring into space after only eating a small portion of his lunch. He abruptly turned to look at Atem, who was startled by the motion.

“You are very thoughtful and considerate. Thank you.” It was quiet, if not a little awkward, but entirely sincere.

Those jewel-like eyes blinked widely. Brown cheeks darkened with the beginnings of a slight blush. “Well, uh, you’re welcome.”

Seto turned back to his food. He picked at the salad as he nodded with a thoughtful frown. He had no idea what to say in return, no idea if he was even _supposed_ to say anything in return.

Well, that was awkward as hell.

When Atem left after delivering a sweet kiss to Seto’s cheek, he had the slightest spring in his step.

Maybe saying nice things was worth the awkwardness when it clearly made Atem happy.

* * *

They were sitting side-by-side on Atem’s bed. Seto was leaning on his arm, angled behind Atem’s back. With every slightest movement, a crisp, heady scent wafted from Atem’s hair, perhaps shampoo or some other product. It was pleasant.

Atem was flipping through his card binder. He talked quietly and occasionally stopped to tap his finger on certain cards to punctuate his sentences. Seto only grunted quietly in response. It was hard to pay attention, he would admit, when Atem’s shirt settled oh-so-nicely along his lean body, when his tendons flexed and flashed on the backs of his hands just so when he moved, when his back would brush against Seto’s arm every once and a while, when his lips would curve and purse around his syllables so gracefully, so purposely, like each motion was thought out, deliberate.

It was hard to pay attention when Atem suddenly turned his head, his thick eyelashes lowering and narrowing the focus on those lurid eyes when he squinted at Seto.

“You aren’t even listening to me,” he accused, all slow and dangerous, perhaps a little amused.

Enough heat focused in the cartilage of Seto’s ear to make them feel like they were about to spontaneously combust.

Seto had no idea what to say in response. He reached out instead, pushed those golden strands away from that smooth cheek. He admired the way the evening light poured in through the gaps in the blinds, how it washed one side of each iris in warmth and the other in shadow, with those lurid red ripples highlighted like in a hyper-realistic painting.

“You have beautiful eyes, Atem,” Seto croaked.

Atem’s face heated up under his fingertips, and his lips parted. Then his brow furrowed, wrinkling his forehead and nose just the slightest. “Seto… you don’t _have_ to say nice things to me. I… was perfectly content with the way things were.”

Seto’s lips pressed together. He could feel his blush spreading from his ears to his cheeks. “I don’t _have_ to do anything.” And he lost his will for words then, couldn’t choke out the _I want to_ , and did what he did best – he acted, leaning forward to catch Atem’s lips against his own in a kiss.

Or at least, he _thought_ he had lost his will for words, because it seemed the words had a will all their own, bubbling out and spilling from his lips like he was wounded inside and bleeding syllables. “Your lips make me want to scream nonsense from the top of KaibaCorp Tower,” he said in a rush between kisses. Atem was grasping at his hair then, desperate, like he was drowning, and maybe he was. Maybe he was inundated by the words pouring from Seto’s mouth. “The way you sit makes me want to take up poetry.” Seto gasped for a breath, perhaps tried to steal it from Atem’s lips. “The way you smile makes me want to kick something because I can’t _stand_ how handsome you are.”

They both laughed breathlessly at that, then again at Atem’s murmur, “Ditto. You’re so beautiful, Seto. _Especially_ when you laugh.”

“Ugh, don’t be sappy right now. It’s my turn,” Seto grumbled (since Atem _always_ thought it was his turn and was becoming more and more liberal with complimenting and praising Seto and it might have been going to his head just a little bit). “I can’t get enough of how you make me feel unconditionally _wanted_ , and I want you to feel that way, too, every day and every night and that’s why you should move in with me.”

Atem froze, and his words came on a shaky breath. “What?”

“Yeah, move in with me.” Seto wasn’t sure why he hadn’t thought of it before. It was a brilliant idea. He also wasn’t sure just when he started stroking his hands through Atem’s hair.

A trembling, airy laugh. “We should probably talk about this more.”

“I’ve talked enough. I’m going to kiss you again.”

“I’m perfectly fine with th—”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one can stop me from writing a bunch of Prideshipping kisses, okay? 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the fluff.


	26. Winner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atem learns to drive. Seto wants to give him a car, but they are both stubborn idiots. Seto has a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 26 -- New Car
> 
> Rated T, established relationship. Takes place between "Bless This Family" and "Sweet Everythings." Basically my headcanons and some fluff on the side.

Seto had long since figured out that the measure of someone’s intelligence was not their accumulation of knowledge, but how quickly they learned and understood something new. The knowledge someone already knew was superficial – it did not show much regarding the inner workings of their mind. But seeing the process of someone learning, of someone grasping a previously unknown topic or concept – _that_ told Seto everything he needed to know.

With that definition of intelligence, Seto realized quickly that Atem was something of a goddamn genius.

After all, he’d started his new life with only the knowledge he had gained from living vicariously in Yugi’s body (which was a narrow scope of modern life overall) and was also hindered by the out-of-date knowledge he’d had as a prince and as pharaoh.

But that did not stop him.

Atem was adaptable. Atem could conform to anything that was thrown at him.

Atem could learn anything within a short span of time – like how to use a computer, how to do calculus, how to operate complicated machinery – and then use that information like he had known it his entire life.

Honestly, it made Seto envious.

He tried not to linger on the past, especially those early days in the Kaiba manor that still haunted him, but he would remember how he _struggled_ with some of the material Gozaburo had forced down his throat. If, back then, Seto had had Atem’s ability to just _absorb_ information and innately understand it, his life would have been much, much easier.

So it made it no surprise that Atem took to driving like a duck to water.

He’d been wanting to learn for some time. Unlike the game shop, the manor was not within walking distance of his job, and public transport was awkward when he was sweaty and dirty from a long day of gardening and landscaping. He’d grown into something of an independent snob, too – he rarely wanted help when he knew he could do it himself. And, while all too relatable, it was a pain in the fucking ass when Atem continuously refused rides from Seto’s staff.

Wasn’t he pharaoh of Egypt at some point? People were probably carrying him around everywhere. God forbid his holy feet ever touched the ground.

(But maybe that was why Atem was so adamant on retaining his independence – he’d never been allowed to do these things himself before, and he wasn’t going to relinquish them now.)

He convinced Seto to teach him to drive. And it took a _lot_ of convincing, but Atem was a very convincing person. (Seto wouldn’t admit that Atem _seduced_ him into it.) Seto was a nervous wreck when the lessons began (how could it be a good idea to put a millennia old pharaoh behind the fucking wheel?), but it wasn’t long before Atem had mastered driving. He’d aced his driving test, too.

Atem had a driver’s license.

(Seto was proud.)

And then it was a whole new debacle when he overhead Atem admitting to Yugi that he was saving up to buy his own car.

_What?_

Seto had more cash than he knew what to do with (a lot of it went to charity for disadvantaged youth, and he was basically paying Atem’s salary anyway with how much he donated to the Domino Botanical Gardens). Why wouldn’t he ask Seto to buy it? But, of course, Atem was too similar to Seto when it came to matters like these. Atem didn’t _want_ Seto to buy it for him. He wanted to do it _himself._

It was twice as irritating as it was endearing.

What was the point of having all this money if Seto couldn’t take care of the people he loved?

So Seto found the perfect compromise.

Atem was sentimental as hell – he hoarded _letters_ and _notes_ and _cards_ his friends gave him like a very sappy, very pathetic dragon. He treasured every single gift he was given, like he hadn’t had the riches of Egypt at his feet some thousands of years ago.

So Seto would give the car as a _present_. After all, Atem’s “birthday” was coming up – the day that he had been given a new body to live out a new life with his new friends. Seto could give him a moving speech about how proud he was of Atem (he was), and then Atem would be _forced_ to accept it because of his overwhelming sense of sentimentality.

Perfect, flawless. Seto was a genius of strategy.

There was only one thing he had to keep in mind; the car could not be expensive, or Atem would outright reject it.

So he picked a car far less expensive than any he would pick for himself, but still dependable. Safe and easy to drive, enough cargo space for Atem to haul plants back and forth if he needed to do so (or to pile all his stupid friends inside). Seto really had to pat himself on the back for his impeccable choice.

And it went over without a hitch – the dramatic reveal and sappy (but genuine) speech sealed the deal, and Atem was so ecstatic he practically glowed and smothered Seto in kisses (an unintended but very pleasant perk).

 _Haha, I won_.

Because, as Seto was finding, if Atem was happy, Seto was always the winner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They are both so bull-headed. Ugh, I love these idiots.


	27. Not for Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atem's co-worker has a baby. Atem and Seto have a moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 27 -- Onesies
> 
> Rated T, established relationship. Takes place after "Growing Together," but is not the last chronological chapter. 
> 
> Not gunna lie, this one is short but packed with emotion.

Seto sighed. “Weren’t you going to show me the gift you got for…” Shit, what was her name… “… your co-worker’s baby?”

It had, after all, just come in the mail. Atem had been all excited about it before.

He looked up from his laptop.

Atem was holding up a scrap of yellow and green stripes – an infant’s nightclothes of some sort. The onesie was obscuring Atem’s face.

But Seto saw his hands.

Trembling. Just a little. A flash of white knuckle against bronze skin when Atem’s hand flexed.

Seto closed his laptop.

“It’s… so small,” Atem murmured, almost choking, in awe.

Seto’s head tilted as he propped his chin on his knuckles. “Not too small. I’m sure you could fit in it if you tried.”

A watery chuckle. His chin was lowered, head shaking as he brought the tiny outfit back to his lap. His eyes glistened, and he tried to discreetly wipe the tears away without smearing his makeup. Not discreet enough.

“Atem…” Seto said, quiet. He couldn’t stand it when Atem cried.

Atem shook his head again. The onesie was bunched in his fist. “We’ll…” A quivering breath. “We’ll never get to have this.”

Seto found himself rising from his seat, to walk around and kneel next to Atem’s seat. He laid his hand over Atem’s fist. “What do you mean?”

“S-Seto…” He turned his hand to hold Seto’s, to swipe his unsteady thumb over the cobalt ring on Seto’s finger. “W-We can’t even get _married_. Legally.” His lips trembled, warping around a sobbing grimace. He was fighting it tooth and nail. “What agency would even let us _adopt a child_ in this godforsaken country?”

“You want children,” Seto realized belatedly. He lifted a hand to cup Atem’s smooth cheek, to swipe away those tears as they trickled down.

“ _Yes_ , I do. You do, too,” Atem sobbed. “I-I’ve _seen_ it, Seto. I’ve _seen_ the way you look at children, at _parents_. You want to be a father, too.” He grasped at Seto’s face, fervent, hands shaking. “I want your children. You want mine.” He pressed their foreheads together. “And we can’t even get _m-married._ ” A sob that wracked him. “I want children with you.” Atem’s tears, hot and salty dropped on his face. “W-We can’t even – can’t even—”

Seto held him then, tugged Atem down into his lap to hold him against his shoulder as he cried. Seto tipped his head back, tried to squeeze away the hot burn of tears in his eyes, tried to slowly breath away the tightness in his lungs, in his heart.

He hated it when Atem cried.

He stroked through Atem’s hair, held him tight.

The onesie was still crumpled between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the next four days are going to be very eventful *rubs hands together* I'm looking forward to it. I hope you guys have enjoyed them so far! It's getting high time for me to tie up all the loose ends. 
> 
> See ya tomorrow, maybe?


	28. Open Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An emergency brings Atem and Kaiba together again, and Atem has some things he has to get off his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 28 -- Chest
> 
> Pre-relationship, rated T. This is set directly between "What We Do for Friends" and "Together."
> 
> (Also, I'm sorry this took so very long to get out, but here it is. It's the chapter we have all been waiting for! Yes! It's the conflict resolution chapter!)
> 
> Un-betaed. I hope you enjoy, though!

The chilling breezes of late autumn clung until the last possible moment, to both the joy, confusion, and anxiety of the population of Domino City. Surely, winter was biding its time and collecting frigid clouds just beyond the horizon. Surely, it would snow any day now, at least just a few flecks that would fall and melt on the sidewalk.

Then winter struck, and it struck with a bitter vengeance. The first snow was a blizzard of nearly biblical proportions. Almost fifty-one dense centimeters of it fell before midnight, and another dry twenty piled on top of it before the sun could peak through the clouds the following morning.

Over the night, the snow had been falling faster than the road crews could clear it. Residents were warned to stay inside – emergency response staff would face extreme difficulties reaching those in need if anyone were to get hurt, and with the massive, heavy snow drifts that had piled on top of buildings during the harsh winds of the blizzard, the streets were a blast zone.

Atem, bundled in a thick sweater, cupped his decaf coffee in both hands as he attempted to peer out a window of the game shop. Down here on the first floor, a snow had drifted up against the side of the building. Only a little sliver of wintry light peered through the glass. Yugi was clattering around in the kitchen as he went about making breakfast for the three of them.

“I’m glad both of you were home yesterday,” Grandpa said, wandering in from where he had just ambled down the stairs. “I’d hate to have either of you stranded somewhere out there.”

Atem hummed and nodded before he took a grateful sip of his piping hot beverage.

Yugi set the bowls out and began to ladle out the miso soup. “We’re lucky. Some parts of the city have power outages. The snow was so wet and heavy it knocked down some lines. Jou’s apparently all bundled up in his bed still until they get it fixed.”

“I don’t understand,” Grandpa muttered. “I thought wet snow doesn’t drift.” He gestured out the window, then murmured a quiet but genuine “Thank you, Yugi” when handed his bowl.

“We had a cold period of no snow,” Atem replied. “It froze the surface of the first snow fall. A dryer, colder front brought the powdery stuff. It got whipped everywhere by the wind and didn’t settle much because of the hard, smooth surface of the previous layer.” They’d just talked about it on the news.

“This sort of stuff didn’t happen back in my day.” (Atem snorted) “It was either wet, or it was dry. We didn’t get both in one night

“Climate change,” Yugi sang.

Atem settled at the island to join in for the meal.

He stared out the window.

That snow was going to be a pain in the ass to shovel later.

* * *

This snow was a pain in the ass to shovel. That first fluffy layer didn’t want to get scooped up. It was like pushing peas around on a plate with a fork, and he and Yugi ended up layering some towels on the floor in front of the door as they got that first square foot of walkway cleared out because of how much was falling into the entrance.

While Yugi had taken up a regular workout regimen at a local gym, it made no match for Atem’s days upon days of strenuous manual labor. Atem could lift more snow in one shovelful. However, they still lost their breath at about the same time.

“For once, I am _roasting_ ,” Atem muttered after he and Yugi sat on the makeshift bench they had dug out of the snow. He tugged at the blue fabric around his neck.

Yugi chuckled, rather airy, and he collapsed back against the snow behind them. A shower of wet flakes fell into his face, and he wrinkled his nose and wiped it off with the end of this scarf.

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment. And it was a pervasive silence. For once, it seemed as though all of Domino was quiet.

Then Yugi shifted. “Have you talked to Kaiba recently?”

Atem’s lips screwed to one side. “Not since… last time.” He turned his to look at his best friend and didn’t bother to hide the hope on his face. “Have you?”

Yugi huffed breath through his nose. “Kaiba came to the shop about a week ago. Nearly got into a fistfight with Jou.”

“What?!”

Yugi laughed. It seemed he was just as incredulous about the whole situation, too. “Yeah, man. Jou didn’t say what it was all about, only that he had done you favor.”

“He _knows_?” Atem howled, cupping his face in his hands.

“ _Everyone_ knows, and – don’t give me that look! – _I_ didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t _have_ to with the way you were sighing and sulking like a jilted schoolgirl.”

Atem sighed.

“Just like that.”

“I just… don’t know what to do.”

Yugi shrugged. “There’s an old Western saying: ‘You can bring a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink.’ Kaiba’s a particularly stubborn horse, and he’d deny himself water and kill himself with dehydration just to prove a point. Metaphorically, of course.”

“Wow, how reassuring, Yugi.”

Yugi turned fully toward Atem. His small, gloved hands grasped Atem’s. “Atem, you know what I have to say—”

“’Some people aren’t meant to stay in our lives,’” Atem echoed. Yes, Yugi’s words from their conversation just over two weeks ago now was still fresh in his mind.

Yugi’s hand tightened, the material of his gloves rasping audibly on Atem’s. “Maybe you need to let that wild horse run free.” Yugi smiled, small and sad. “And just maybe he’ll came back when he’s ready.”

Atem frowned, lips pressing together as he tried to ignore the stinging in his eyes. “What if he doesn’t come back?”

Quiet but emphatic, and in that moment Yugi’s eyes looked so _wise_ , like his soul was the one that was millennia old, not Atem’s. “Then you need to move on, Atem.”

* * *

After another round of shovel-shovel-grunt-pant, they wandered inside for lunch and some warm beverages. They set their gloves and scarves on the vents and thawed for an hour or so before they were suiting up to go back to work.

Atem hesitated at the doorway.

That ache in his chest was back today. Fluttery, strange, leaving him breathless.

He’d felt like this before. And he’d worked through it before. It always went away eventually.

But something felt different today.

Yugi’s dark brows furrowed. The concern was etched into every line of his face. “Are you okay, Atem?”

Atem took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Yeah, Aibou, I’m fine.” He tried to smile. By the crease forming on Yugi’s forehead, Atem could tell it wasn’t very convincing. “I’m _fine._ ”

“You better be,” Yugi grumbled. “If you don’t feel well, go inside or I’ll put snow down your shirt.”

“I’m _fine._ ”

They continued working.

But the snow felt like it was getting heavier and heavier. Black spots clouded Atem’s vision, and he felt like each breath was hardly enough, even when he took more, faster and deeper. But then even his lungs were feeling weak, like he was trying to breath air that had gone heavy and dense and liquid.

The shovel slipped through his gloved fingers. His knees jarred against the freshly-uncovered walkway. He hardly felt it when his whole body fell to the side, against the wall of snow.

All the while, that breathless fluttering.

“Atem! _Atem!_ ” A hand curled into his shoulder and shook vigorously, then tapped his cheek roughly. He was already unconscious. “Grandpa!” More distant. “Grandpa! Call an ambulance!”

* * *

There were few things that could break Kaiba Seto from his intense, nearly robotic focus on his work. Unfortunately – no matter how necessary it was – one thing that had been conditioned to rouse him was the obnoxious trilling of his cell phone. The programmed ringtones were annoying enough to make him want to dig out his eardrums with a pen, and that made them excellent at doing their jobs.

And this wasn’t any cell phone. It was his personal.

He checked the number. It was Yugi’s.

His thumb hovered over the little red button on the touch screen. No matter how badly he wanted to deny the call out of spite, he rationalized that Yugi would never call without a good reason.

Still though, when he answered, he still snapped, “Yugi, why the hell are you calling my personal.”

“It’s Atem,” Yugi said, breathless, like he had been running, or…

Kaiba did not notice the way his spine straightened. “What—”

But Yugi was already plowing on, “He’s in the emergency room. We’re in the hospital.” Panicked. His breathing was panicked. “He just _collapsed,_ and I couldn’t wake him up.”

Kaiba was already up and grabbing his coat, his work abandoned on his desk without a thought. “Which hospital, Yugi?”

“Domino General.”

“I’ll be right there. Calm down. Breathe. Panicking isn’t going to help Atem right now. You need to stay strong for him, Yugi.”

A shaky inhale on the other side. “Right. Right. You’re right.”

“Of course I’m right.” He hung up.

When he reached for the doorknob to his home office, he didn’t notice the tremors in his hands.

* * *

The road crews of Domino City were fast, efficient, and effective. The main roads were clear by the time he embarked on his hasty journey to Domino City General Hospital. It was a flurry of activity in that section of the hospital. Nurses rushing back and forth, injured people getting carting down halls. Many people sustained injuries both during the storm or that morning.

But Kaiba paid them little mind beyond the initial note.

Atem had been moved to the ICU, and the room number kept ringing in his ear drums, among all the other thoughts and words bouncing around in his head like pinballs.

 _– He just_ collapsed _–_

_\-- I couldn’t wake him up –_

Bustling hallways passed by in a hazy blur, but the number plates beside each door way caught his attention like flashes of light in the darkness.

Close. He was getting close.

And then that number screamed at him from its place beside a half-opened sliding door, and Kaiba’s feet suddenly seemed like they were stuck in cement as he stared through the almost-closed blinds into the room beyond. Three beds with sterile white sheets were lined up. Two were empty, almost foreboding, but in that last one closest to the wall, there he was, supine. Yugi, his father, and Jounouchi all sat with chairs pulled close.

Atem seemed to be awake, his head resting back on the pillow, tubes twining down from his nostrils and from the inside of his elbow, his lips barely moving as he murmured to those in the room with him.

Three heads snapped toward Kaiba, and he suddenly realized he had drifted through the door.

“Kaiba!” Yugi exclaimed. He looked like a mess – the flesh around his eyes was swollen and red, and his hair was even wilder than usual.

Atem’s head rolled toward him.

In the sterile white of the room, those red eyes threatened to consume with their lurid intensity, even as they peered through mussed hair pressed against one frighteningly pallid cheek. Lips moved, and Kaiba could not hear him over the sounds of the machines and the bustling ICU, but those words rang through his ears all the same, “You’re here.”

Thoughts crowded against the insides of Kaiba’s skull like waves bashing against cliffs, but his leaden tongue found voice for not a single one. He stared, rather dimly, at those slowly blinking eyes and the lips quirking into a small, languid smile.

“I’m… going to go check out the vending machine,” Yugi suddenly blurted, patting Atem’s hand where he left it on those stark white sheets. With similarly flimsy statements, Mutou senior and Jounouchi shuffled from the room. The sliding door hissed shut behind them.

Atem’s chest moved with shallow breaths. That gaze had stayed locked on Kaiba the whole time. Intent, searching, almost, despite the blank expression smoothing the blanched planes of his face.

“What happened?” Kaiba asked, his voice leaving him in a raw whisper, and he found himself moving forward again, drifting toward one of the abandoned chairs.

“Irregular heart rhythm,” Atem replied. His deep voice was wan, quiet. Another slow blink – even in a state like this, each pass of his absurdly pretty eyelashes was mesmerizing. A longer breath through his nose, taking in the oxygen provided through the tubing. “Apparently, I have a faulty heart valve. The doctor said I was born with it, but recent strain has made it bad enough to backflow the oxygenated blood trying to reach the other parts of my body. Hence the tubes.”

“It’s… congenital?” Kaiba croaked.

Atem gave a small, sardonic chuckle. “Yes, though I don’t think I had it… then.” A wry smile. “I think the gods wanted me to come back sooner than I expected.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Kaiba snapped. One hand balled into a shaking fist against his thigh. “The doctors are going to fix it.”

A small nod. Atem’s lip twitched around another small smile. “Yes. The damage in that valve is too extensive for a simple probe to fix it so…” He splayed a palm on his own chest. The white hospital gown peeked between dark fingers. “They’re going to have to do open heart surgery.”

A cut from manubrium to navel, ribs cracked open, Atem’s heart stopped to be operated on. A machine would keep his blood flowing through his body during the surgery, but… effectively, Atem would be dead.

Again.

“You’re young and otherwise healthy. It has a high likelihood of success,” Kaiba managed, somewhat distant as he tried to banish the image from his mind, the image of Atem cut open to be dissected, for his heart to be in some surgeon’s hands. Literally.

“That’s what the doctors told me. Over ninety-five percent success rate, they said.” He set his palm up, knuckles against the sheets, and Kaiba found his hand slipping down until their fingers tangled together. “They want to operate on me this evening.”

Kaiba gave a nod. Their eyes and their fingers were locked. Kaiba didn’t know if he could break away even if he tried, even if he wanted to.

“Thank you for coming,” Atem murmured, quieter now. He traced Kaiba’s face with his eyes, like he was trying to etch it into his mind forever.

Kaiba didn’t know what to say, so he gave another nod.

“I…” Another long intake. “I have some things I want to say to you.” A small, sad chuckle. “I don’t know when I will see you again.” He tightened his grip, just a moment. His small, calloused fingers curled around Kaiba’s longer ones so perfectly before they went lax again. “A wise man once told me ‘Some people aren’t meant to say in our lives.’”

“Dammit, Atem, you’re not going to fucking die,” Kaiba barked hoarsely.

A huff of breath, less than a chuckle, and not entirely amused. “I’m not talking about me.” That gentle tenderness glowed gently in Atem’s usually fiery gaze. “I’m talking about _you_ , Kaiba.” Another smile, but so, so sorrowful. “I understand that what I want from you – no, _with you_ , you may not be able to give me. Really, I should have realized that from the start.” His thumb, slow and shaking, dragged across Kaiba’s knuckles. “I’m sorry if I have made you uncomfortable over the past several months.”

Kaiba blinked, the words processing slowly, like syrup pushing a waterwheel of his thoughts rather than some stream or river. “It…” _It sounds like you’re breaking up with me,_ he wanted to say, but Atem already hushed him with another squeeze of the hand.

“I can’t do it anymore, Kaiba,” Atem whispered. His eyes were glassy with tears, tears that he seemed to be fighting with blinks and deep breaths and trembling lips pressing into a thin line. “I’m starving and I want more, but I don’t want to take what you can’t give. What you aren’t willing to give.” A wet, trembling breath. “I can’t make you love me.”

“No,” Kaiba rushed, “No.” It was screaming in his head, in his eardrums, pushing from within at all sides, threatening to split him at the seams, _no no no no no._ “You can’t.”

And Atem’s face fell, his eyes lowering.

“That’s not what I meant!” Kaiba blustered. “No, you can’t just… you can’t just…”

But now Atem’s face hardened into that indignant, righteous anger that always got Kaiba’s pulse pounding when they were on opposite sides of the field. But now, it made his heart sink like a stone, especially as Atem ripped his hand away from their embrace. “I can’t _what_ , exactly? After you use me and toss me aside and then come back whenever you damn well please like I’m at your beck and call, I can’t _what_? I deserve more than this.” Vehement but sorrowful and exhausted. Somehow, he was still so noble, even when he was heartbroken in more ways than one. “I deserve to be happy.” Another long breath. “So do you, Kaiba. And if I’m not the one who will make you happy… then so be it.”

Kaiba was shaking his head, over and over, no, no, no. “If you died… I wouldn’t know what to do. Fuck, I’d hunt you down and bring you back even if it took everything within my power, and… if you leave…” _I don’t know what I would do._

“ _Kaiba_ ,” Atem breathed. “There’s nothing to leave. Whenever I wanted to build something _more_ between us, you pushed me away. I can’t… I can’t keep fighting the tides, Kaiba.”

“We’ll make something more.” He’d known for some time that Atem wanted more, and that Atem could get more from any other man if he so desired. Jounouchi had made that clear. But he thought he had _time_ ; he didn’t think that Atem would _leave him_.

He took Atem’s devotion for granted.

A plant, no matter how hearty, would wither and die if deprived of water and sunlight.

“I don’t want to hear this right now,” Atem croaked, lifting his hands to hide his face as he went limp against the hospital sheets and the pathetic excuse for a pillow he was provided. “I don’t want you to say this just because you think you have to.”

And Kaiba stood then, stood as a hot rage nipped at the back of his throat. “I _never_ say anything I don’t mean, Atem.” His teeth gritted and grinded as he glared down at Atem, at that stunned look on his face. “Do you think I would be here if you didn’t matter to me?” He raked a hand through his hair. “Jesus. Yugi called me and I thought I wouldn’t be able to breathe. I left as soon as I could and I hardly remember the drive here because I needed to know _you’re okay_.”

“I _know_ you care about me,” Atem replied, soft. “You’re a man of action, a man who believes that actions are louder than words. And you’ve shown me that you care about me, but… it’s not the same way I care about you.”

“It _is!”_

“Then why do you keep _hurting_ me?” It was the first time Atem raised his voice louder than a whisper the entire time, and they both froze, staring at each other, eyes intense. But again, Atem softened, his hands flattening from where they had been gripping the sheets with white knuckles, and Kaiba realized then what he kept seeing in Atem, what he _never_ had seen in Atem before: defeat. “Why do you keep hurting me?” Yes, he had the look of a man who believed he was fighting a battle he could never win. He parted his lips to speak again, but simply sighed instead, let his head tilt back against his pillows.

The question dangled between them.

“I don’t know.”

But that was a lie. Kaiba knew that Atem knew that was a lie.

“I don’t want to. I don’t want to hurt you.”

That one was not.

“It’s… hard. To let people in,” Kaiba admitted, slow and quiet, rough and raw. “I’ve had too many things blow up in my face to not be wary.”

And he stopped there, not sure what to divulge, what he was _capable_ of divulging at the moment, and Atem waited quietly, patiently just in case there was more, but more did not come.

“If you want more with me,” Atem began, “then you can’t sabotage it every time you feel like I’m too close.” He reached out, his fingers brushing Kaiba’s where they were dangling at his side. Kaiba accepted the touch, and slowly sat back down in the chair. “I can’t tear down your walls all by myself, Kaiba.” A small smile. “I need your help.”

“I understand,” Kaiba murmured, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, as he brought Atem’s hand to his cheek, and when he blinked, his eyelashes skimmed those defined knuckles gently. “When this is all over, can… can we start over? Will you let me… do it right this time?”

“On one condition,” Atem responded, and for the first time since Kaiba saw him that day, Atem’s eyes had the beginnings of their usual bright spark. “You take me out on a date, Kaiba. A _real_ one.” He turned his hand in, cupped Kaiba’s face in his palm.

“I guess,” Kaiba replied, rolling his eyes, though a smile lingered just beneath the surface. “On one condition.”

Atem’s eyebrow winged up, equal parts amused and curious.

“The people closest to me call me Seto,” Kaiba said, low, as he stared into those expressive eyes.

“By ‘people,’ you mean Mokuba, right?” Atem joked.

“If you weren’t in an ICU, I would probably do something to get back at you for that,” Kaiba replied with a playful snarl.

“There’s always later, Seto.”

_Yes, there is._

And though he nervously paced the entire time Atem was in the operation room, he still felt better than he had in months.

No, in years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I have dropped hints all over the place about Atem's heart condition (from mentions of palpitations to murmurs, fatigue, dizziness, and also mentions of his operation in chronologically later chapters). With some valve defects, people can really walk that thin line between total failure and functionality daily and not even realize it. Atem's heart managed to get stronger as he became more fit, but it still couldn't totally make up for the faulty valve that couldn't keep up with the rest of Atem's heart. 
> 
> Also, another thing I want to bring up is a problem I have with portrayals of relationships not only in fanfiction but in general media. I touch on this problem I have in this very chapter -- if you want to build an open, meaningful relationship with someone, you really need to put your fair share of work into it. It is NOT someone else's responsibility to 'tear your walls down,' and it's really unhealthy to pin that expectation on someone. YOU need to work through your own problems. While your partner can _help_ you work through your problems, it is not solely their responsibility, nor should it be expected of them. (Looking at you, Kaiba.)
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! We have two more fluffy ones and then an epilogue to wrap everything up. I will get them done and post them when I can.


	29. Distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seto is away on a business trip when they are supposed to be having movie night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 29 -- Cyber
> 
> So, this one took a little longer because I realized the place I wanted to put this in the timeline just didn't jive with me, so I ruminated where I should put it for a little while, since I really needed to know where it fit before I wrote it. That being said, this takes place right between "Cinephile" and "Nice Things."
> 
> It's a little on the shorter side but I hope you enjoy it!

“Oh my god, Atem, if I hear you sigh one more time, I am kicking you out,” Yugi grumbled.

Atem took a deep breath in, but when Yugi’s usually kind eyes narrowed into a glare, he slowly, silently let it trickle back out. “It’s supposed to be movie night at Seto’s,” he replied, sullen.

Yugi’s lips pursed. No matter how dramatic Atem got, Yugi could never stay exasperated with him long when he was looking like an abandoned puppy. “We could watch a movie together tonight,” Yugi supplied instead. “I’ll even cuddle you.”

Atem nodded slowly, but still his lips were pursed in the slightest pout.

“Look, I know you miss Kaiba, but he’ll be back in a few days,” Yugi assured. “In the meantime, let’s just sit down and relax, okay?”

Another slow nod.

This time, Yugi was the one who heaved a sigh.

He swore sometimes it felt like he was dealing with a man-child.

Yes, your mom will pick you up from daycare. Do you want a cookie?

Actually, that was a pretty good idea.

“Do you want some snacks? Maybe cookies or popcorn?”

A more enthusiastic nod.

“What do you want to watch?”

* * *

Up high in a penthouse suite in Hong Kong, Seto was staring out over the city lights. His laptop sat open and forgotten on the polished mahogany desk. His shoulders shifted under his fitted button-down with his deep sigh, and he lifted his glass to his lips for a long drink of water.

The dim but warm light of the desk lamp washed the room in a quiet, intimate palette, but it still felt too empty.

For the first time in a long time, he felt like he belonged somewhere else.

He didn’t belong in China all by himself. No matter how important his meetings that day and the next were, he wanted to be elsewhere. For the first time in years, he had something drawing him back home.

He didn’t want to be plugging through paperwork in a quiet office.

He wanted to be bathed in the light of a television. He wanted to be curled up with a body much smaller and warmer than his own. He wanted his fingertips to be buttery from popcorn, and he wanted his ears to be filled with the sound of snacking and high-octane combat sequences.

He wanted movie night with Atem.

It happened again, just like it had happened every twenty minutes for the past hour; he palmed his phone from his pocket and checked his phone. He told himself it was to check the time, but he really knew it was to see if, magically, any notifications appeared.

None had.

After all, Atem had promised not to bother him (though this promise came unprompted, and Seto was rather miffed about the entire situation). After the screen had gone black again, he awakened it with a press of his thumb.

It was an hour earlier in Hong Kong than it was in Domino City, but it wasn’t too late yet.

A few taps, and the window popped open to a long line of text messages. The last conversation he had with Atem had started with a photo. Atem’s arm was the focus of the picture, and it was littered with scratches, some red and threatening to bleed, others simply sore and angry. He’d been handling a particularly thorny plant at work that day, and it hadn’t seemed to take kindly to his efforts to transplant it.

Seto wondered if any of those scratches would end up scarring, and he pressed a hand to his face at the bolt of heat that tugged low in his gut at the thought.

Great. Just what he needed – one more reason for Atem to be absolutely touchable and irresistible.

He sighed and scrolled back down. He blinked, long and slow, and then suddenly he was typing.

**Are you awake still?**

Sent. He stared at the text a little, his lips pursing, before he let his arm fall to his side. Not a second later, the phone vibrated in his hand.

**Yes. Yugi and I are watching a movie.**

Seto snorted, went to type again, but his phone vibrated again.

**Are you busy?**

He glanced over his shoulder at his laptop. He turned back to his phone screen.

**No.**

**Nice to know how replaceable I am.**

But he smiled as he typed it.

**> :( No. Yugi is a subpar cuddle buddy.**

It was pathetic how much that pleased Seto.

**If you’re not busy, then I am going to**

**videochat with you when the movie is done.**

**If you insist.**

But Seto was counting down the minutes, and he hoped that they were already mostly through whatever film they were watching. It seemed like forever, but it probably wasn’t too long before his phone was vibrating again.

And then Atem’s face was on Seto’s screen. It was a strange angle, and thankfully, Atem seemed to notice it, too, because he kept moving his phone around while he frowned into the camera.

“I’m sorry. I have never done this before. It’s strange,” Atem mumbled, trying his best to adjust it. From the background that kept blurring by with Atem’s restless fiddling, Seto gathered that he had retreated to his room.

“Pharaoh: zero, technology: one,” Seto replied, dry, though he could faintly feel the fond smile on his face.

Atem snorted. “I’m not to blame. It’s the faulty engineering.”

“I’m sure. Maybe you should contact the manufacturer.”

“Ha _ha._ I would, but I heard he’s an absolute dunderhead.”

“Dunderhead? Haven’t heard that one before.”

And though Seto didn’t get the chance to simply gaze upon Atem (with how much the camera was moving around), that dysphoric ache in his chest abated little by little.

Fuck, he was so whipped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG you guys that means we only have 2 left. I probably won't get them done before the end of the January, but we'll see.


	30. Full Circle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atem's acting weird on date night. What is he hiding?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 30 -- Ring
> 
> OMFG you guys, please, please pretend this isn't super late. Thank you DX

It was a warm spring evening. Not hot, thankfully, but warm. That lazy kind of warm, the kind of warm that evoked images of cats napping in sunlit windowsills or reptiles basking on dark rocks, or of warm orange sunlight and singing birds and sweet breezes.

Here, the air was thick and heady with the scent of blossoms and pollen and nectar.

It was a perfect evening for a stroll through the Domino Botanical Gardens.

They didn’t hold hands. But Atem’s shoulder brushed Seto’s upper arm, and Seto would occasionally reach a pinky out to trace it along Atem’s forearm. In the peachy glow of the nigh setting sun, Atem looked simply resplendent. His hair gleamed, molten in the blond parts and gently glistening in the dark parts. His long lashes cast spidery shadows on his high, tanned cheeks. That low, slanting light pooled in his irises – made them so dynamic and breathtaking – and played along the pensive pout of his shapely lips.

A gentle breeze whispered through the verdant, well-tended leaves and luscious blossoms. Birds sang their evening songs in the branches. The sounds of the city were dimmed here, in this sacred space, a temple to nature herself.

But awe for nature or the hard work the gardeners and landscapers were the furthest thing from Kaiba Seto’s mind.

Something was off. While he was a genius, it certainly didn’t take one to notice Atem’s strange behavior for most of the evening.

First, it had taken him a while to get ready. Normally, Atem was efficient in assembling what he wanted to wear and how he wanted to accessorize. Earlier, before they left for their date (arranged by Atem himself), he changed his shirt. Four times. _Four_. Seto knew Atem to be many things, but indecisive was never one of those things.

Seto really didn’t understand what the fuss was about. After all, they just ended up going to that café. They frequented it, but Atem had looked at the entrance, to Seto, and back again with a panicked furtiveness that did not at all hide his behavior. After they received their food, Atem seemed to finally relax, and the tension around his shoulders and _just barely_ ticking between his brows melted away.

Seto was the one who had proposed that they take a walk down to the botanical gardens. He was, after all, curious about what updates had been made, and the gardens were more beautiful each time he visited. Normally, Atem would point out the trees and bushes and flowers that he himself had planted, and he had endless stories to tell about the shenanigans his coworkers were always up to, about the children that came to learn, or about the biology of each and every plant.

But not this time. If he had stories to tell, they were firmly lodged behind his teeth.

It was strange, because he wasn’t distant, or aloof. It was simply a thoughtful, dare Seto say, _nervous_ silence.

Seto frowned. His pinky reached out again, curling gently against the warm, shadowed skin of Atem’s forearm. Atem glanced up, and the slight purse of his lips softened into a small smile.

Seto smiled back, just the slightest, relieved. Atem’s eyes lingered on his face. Those lurid irises moved fractionally between those thick lashes as they seemed to trace the line of Seto’s jaw, then higher, perhaps his eyes and cheeks. Under the soft, searching intensity of that gaze, Seto felt his cheeks flush hot. He turned his head to look away, just as the breeze huffed again to play with his hair and just as his pinky extended once again. Silent affections, but affections returned.

It was then that Atem’s hand – rough from work but tender with intimacy – caught at Seto’s, first lightly, then with a sort of urgent insistence that had Seto turning back to look down at their joined hands – tangled, dark and pale, alike washed in that faint peach sunlight. He glanced back up to those eyes.

Unfurled, raw, baring the ardor that swelled within. Seto simply found it hard to breathe when Atem looked at him like _that_.

“Seto,” Atem said, low and deep and croaking from his throat, and he took a moment to gulp and clear his throat.

They stopped then, dappled in evening sunlight and the shadows of the blossoms.

“I know… I know that you don’t think much of it,” Atem said, breathless, nervous smile on his lips. “I know that… it doesn’t really matter to you, that what we have already is _real_ and that no piece of paper will ever change it.”

Seto narrowed his eyes, mind racing to put all the pieces together. What was he going on about?

Atem’s hand tightened around Seto’s grounding him to the moment, begging him for his fullest attention. “I know that… we can’t really get that piece of paper, anyways. Not here.” His red eyes glistened like wet gemstones.

Was he talking about…

“But I want you. Forever. For the rest of our lives. For even longer,” Atem said, fervent, and he was sinking down.

Holy shit, he was—

He bent down on one knee, one hand gripping Seto’s, the other digging into his pocket. “I want to wake up next to you and fall asleep beside you until the day I die. I want to have movie night every night until I can’t hear or see anymore.” He laughed again, wet and airy. “I know I’ll love you until the end of time no matter what you say, but I want to spend every second I possibly can with you.”

He procured a small velvet box. Within, the gleaming metallic shine of a cobalt ring winked up at Seto’s startled eyes.

“Please, marry me, Seto,” Atem breathed. No, his eyes were more brilliant than any precious metal or gemstone. “I want to be your husband.”

Seto’s breaths heaved in and out of his lungs, his thoughts stumbling over in his head, and the words that tumbled from his lips were – “You _idiot_.”

Atem’s lips parted, his inhale sharp enough to jut his shoulders up.

“Is this why you were acting like a paranoid schizophrenic all evening?” Seto asked, throaty.

Atem seemed to have run out of words, and he nodded dumbly instead, still kneeling at Seto’s feet.

“You _idiot_ ,” Seto hissed again, reaching down to yank Atem back to his feet.

Perhaps Atem meant to say something, but it was soon muffled in Seto’s shirt when Seto clasped him tight. Seto buried his face into Atem’s crown, and each ragged breath inundated him with the scent of Atem’s hair. “You idiot,” Seto whispered. “Did you think I would say no?”

Atem turned his head, his cheek pressed to Seto’s chest. “I know you best out of anyone, but I still find you unpredictable at times.”

Seto nuzzled down, hands on Atem’s shoulders to adjust him, so he could press their lips together in panting, sweet kisses.

“Is this a yes?” Atem breathed between kisses.

Seto cupped his face passionately in one hand. “Of course it’s a fucking yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahahaha let's hope it doesn't take me a month to get to the last chapter lol

**Author's Note:**

> Current Chronological Index:
> 
> 1) Hot Cocoa -- ["Exuberance"](/works/27862766/chapters/68263762#workskin)  
> 2) Flowers -- ["New Roots"](/works/27862766/chapters/68375833#workskin)  
> 3) Desire -- ["Black Kiss"](/works/27862766/chapters/68219449#workskin)  
> 4) TV -- ["Red in Tooth and Claw"](/works/27862766/chapters/68737005)  
> 5) Scarf -- ["The Pharaoh's New Cothes"](/works/27862766/chapters/68481035)  
> 6) Carry -- ["Extra Passenger"](/works/27862766/chapters/68718825)  
> 7) Standing in Line -- ["V.I.P."](/works/27862766/chapters/69056592)  
> 8) Red -- ["Blush Tones"](/works/27862766/chapters/68398978)  
> 9) Shower -- ["5% Chance"](/works/27862766/chapters/68472725)  
> 10) Frustration -- ["Bad Day"](/works/27862766/chapters/69165396)  
> 11) Slow -- ["LInes"](/works/27862766/chapters/69183540)  
> 12) Possessive -- ["What We Do for Friends"](/works/27862766/chapters/68843001)  
> 13) Chest -- ["Open Heart"](/works/27862766/chapters/70309221)  
> 14) Bite -- ["Together"](/works/27862766/chapters/69295860>)  
> 15) Movie Night -- ["Cinephile"](/works/27862766/chapters/69059433)  
> 16) Cyber -- ["Distance"](/works/27862766/chapters/70946526)  
> 17) Sweet -- ["Nice Things"](/works/27862766/chapters/69379689)  
> 18) Animals -- ["Package Deal"](/works/27862766/chapters/69241962)  
> 19) Glasses -- ["New Look"](/works/27862766/chapters/68932749)  
> 20) Throne -- ["Fit for a King"](/works/27862766/chapters/68640255)  
> 21) Visual Kei -- ["The Coat"](/works/27862766/chapters/69333357>)  
> 22) Blanket -- ["Mudita"](/works/27862766/chapters/69293205)  
> 23) Stocking -- ["Bless This Family"](/works/27862766/chapters/68790168)  
> 24) New Car -- ["Winner"](/works/27862766/chapters/69432597)  
> 25) Letter -- ["Sweet Everythings"](/works/27862766/chapters/68873445)  
> 26) Silver -- ["Options"](/works/27862766/chapters/69104778)  
> 27) Coffee -- ["2 AM"](/works/27862766/chapters/68219022)  
> 28) Ring -- ["Full Circle"](/works/27862766/chapters/73090821)  
> 29) Plant -- [ "Growing Together"](/works/27862766/chapters/68941803)  
> 30) Onesies -- ["Not for Us"](/works/27862766/chapters/69521871)


End file.
